


Detriment

by xSpookyScarySkeletonsx



Series: Future Politics [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Everybody is Bad at Feelings, F/M, also lots of talk about politics and unfair treatment, also multiple chapters, and my very limited and inaccurate knowledge of police work, and occassional swearing, and some worldbuilding i guess, connor gets to have an existential crisis, hank doesn’t want to deal with it but he’ll have to, im back on my bs, potentially a bit of (blue) blood, this time with actual plot, updating tags as we move along though, you want feelings you gonna have to suffer like the rest of us buddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 07:31:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15043826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSpookyScarySkeletonsx/pseuds/xSpookyScarySkeletonsx
Summary: Lazy Saturday mornings are Connor's favorite. Too bad that crime doesn't stop just because it's the weekend.But when a mission goes wrong he has to deal with consequences far worse than the loss of his weekend.(You don’t have to read the rest of the series for this to make sense, I try to remember to explain everything. More like I repeat myself all the time but what can ya do.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I have lost all control so hello and welcome to the third installment of this mess. You don’t have to have read the other two parts to read this. Also I’m actually aiming for some sort of plot this time (it’s a miracle, I know) instead of just pointless talk. Also I figured it was time for a change of point of view sooooo here we go
> 
>  
> 
> Update:  
> I swear I will fix the formatting some day when my laptop stops being shit.

_‘And remember also that in fighting against Man, we must not come to resemble him. Even when you have conquered him, do not adopt his vices.’_

 

Connor stopped reading when his auditory sensors registered Lindsay’s soft footsteps on the stairs. 7. 13 Am. Early for a Saturday morning. He looked up just as she entered the kitchen. 

‘Good morning.’ 

Lindsay hummed in acknowledgement, wrist rubbing at still puffy eyes. The shirt she wore only reached to mid-thigh, legs bare, contrasting the sweater she was swaddled in. Connor’s sensors detected that the skin of her legs was 0.2 degrees colder than the rest of her body. He decided not to tell her, gauging she probably wasn’t in the mood to hear this fact. 

‘You’re up early,’ he told her instead. 

‘Fucking tell me about it,’ Lindsay grumbled, voice still rough with sleep. She stood in the middle of the kitchen for a moment, looking slightly disoriented. Then she moved towards the island bench and pulled her phone out of the pocket of her sweater. She placed the device on the marble and her weight shifted, hip jutting out to lean against the counter. 

‘What are you up to?’ Her tone was a little softer now.

Connor knew it was obvious what he was doing so he deduced Lindsay was trying to start a conversation. 

‘I’m reading.’ 

‘Like, properly?’ 

‘I’m trying to process the text word by word instead of scanning the entire page, yes.’ It was the closest he could get to actually reading the way humans did. 

‘How’s that going for you?’ 

‘It’s challenging.’ 

‘It would be.’ Lindsay nodded. ‘What are you reading, anyway?’ 

He tilted the top of the book towards himself so Lindsay could see the cover. 

‘ _Animal Farm_? Trying to tell me something?’ 

It took him a second to connect the dots, to remember what he knew of the content of the book. A joke, he concluded.

‘Maybe.’ Not a very clever answer, but Connor supposed it was an improvement. Only a little while ago his programming wouldn’t have registered Lindsay was making a joke.

Still his answer was enough to pull her lips up into a small smile. Connor liked making her smile. 

‘If you’re going to read Orwell, at least read _Nineteen Eighty-Four_. It’s much better than stupid _Animal Farm_.’ 

The book was already on his list of literature to read but he saved it as especially important now, considering Lindsay had recommended it. 

‘I’m trying to read all the books that are considered classics. Any other suggestions?’ 

Lindsay thought for a moment. ‘I guess _The Grapes of Wrath_ and _Of Mice and Men_ are considered classics, so maybe those? I thought they were both a bit boring though, to be honest.’ 

‘You’ve read them?’ Connor was a little surprised since the books were much, _much_ older than Lindsay. He reconsidered this now, realizing they were considered classics for a reason. 

‘My dad had this big thing about wanting me to read traditional American literature,’ she scoffed, rolling her eyes. Family was a difficult subject that he had concluded was best to ignore. Occasionally this was outweighed by his curiosity. 

‘Did you not enjoy your father’s suggestions?’ 

‘Honestly? I’m suspicious of anything _traditionally American_. Especially when it comes from people of European descend.’ 

Connor had realized early on that Lindsay didn’t seem to share her family’s patriotic views and he nodded slowly. ‘I see.’ 

‘Where’d you get the book from anyway?’ 

‘The bookshelf. It’s yours.’ 

Lindsay frowned at him. ‘Is it actually?’ 

Memorizing the spot where he had stopped reading _(page 8, paragraph 2 - he hadn’t made it very far yet_ ), he flipped to the front of the book. There was a stamp there, ‘ _Property of Canyon Crest Academy Library_ ’, along with the names of everyone who had borrowed the book, the last entry reading William J. Carter. 

Connor held up the page for Lindsay to see. ‘I assume this was your father’s. He seems to have borrowed it from his school’s library but never returned it.’ 

Lindsay squinted at the book, the distance of 2.91m making it hard for her eyes to see what was on the page. Then she shrugged. ‘Sounds about right. I didn’t know I had that.’ 

‘I hope it’s alright that I have borrowed it? I wasn’t entirely certain if it held some sort of special sentimental value considering it was given to you by your father.’ 

‘It’s fine, I don’t mind. It’s just a stolen library book.’

Connor nodded. Lindsay had always been very accommodating and willing to share anything with him. He watched now as she finally moved over to the coffee maker, pressing the button that would get the machine making her standard coffee _. 3 grams of ground coffee beans, 190ml of hot water, 60ml of full fat milk._ Lindsay added more milk to her coffee than anyone else he knew but omitted the sugar. Connor had made it a point to learn the details of her preferred beverage because he had seen what happened when her craving for caffeine wasn’t satisfied. He wasn’t overly keen on reliving that particular experience. 

 

They both watched as the coffee maker filled a mug with the drink in question. Then Lindsay carefully carried it over to the dining table and sat down across from Connor. Steam rose from the mug, stretching and curling like wispy fingers in the cool morning air. There was something strangely tranquil and comforting about the sight and Connor thought he began to understand most humans’ affinity for hot beverages. At the edge of his vision a notification helpfully informed him of the steadily decreasing temperature of the liquid. Lindsay’s hands, almost completely covered by the sleeves of her sweater, wrapped around the white porcelain. Connor stopped himself from warning her of the potential dangers of sustaining burn injuries. 

 

‘Why are you sitting over here anyway?’ 

His attention shifted to Lindsay’s face, her tired eyes watching him intently. Finally Connor realized he was still holding onto the book and set it aside. 

‘Is there something wrong with sitting here?’

‘The lounge chair is more comfortable.’

‘I thought I would change things up a little.’ 

‘You’re a _true rebel_.’ 

Her smile told him she was just teasing. 

‘Very funny.’ 

‘I know, I’m _hilarious_. Anyway, why actually read the books? You could just download them.’ 

 

Connor tilted his head a little, a curious habit he had picked up somehow, one of his hands moving to straighten the book on the table. He shifted it until the bottom edge of the book was aligned perfectly with the edge of the table. 

‘I’m not sure,’ he admitted then. ‘I suppose it helps kill some time.’ 

‘Fair enough.’ Lindsay cautiously took a sip of her coffee. ‘Do you have any plans for today?’ 

‘No, do you?’ 

She shook her head and suppressed a yawn. ‘I think I want to do absolutely nothing today, apart from going back to bed.’ 

Connor liked the idea. His favourite Saturdays were the lazy ones. He hadn’t understood the concept of doing _nothing_ at first, but Lindsay had quickly introduced him to it. They would spend their Saturday mornings in bed, watching old cartoons on TV, talking about their week. Sometimes Lindsay would challenge him to a video game. She was yet to win but she didn’t seem to mind. Connor thought back to their first date. They had gone bowling, three games, because the usual first date standard of going out for dinner would have been a rather one sided affair in their case. The agreement had been best of three. He had won the first game and then deliberately let Lindsay win the second one. ‘Software instability,’ Connor lied after his last shot had ended up in the gutter. ‘I must have miscalculated.’ 

Lindsay had grinned at him and at the time he had been too busy analysing why it made him feel like his mainframe processor was about to crash. Now he wondered if Lindsay had known he was lying. But before Connor got the chance to ask, a red notification box appeared in his field of vision. 

 

_Immediate callout: Active crime scene - hostage situation_

 

There was an address as well as a few other pieces of information. ‘So much for doing nothing,’ he thought while he downloaded the data. A quick scan of the information revealed that Lindsay’s name was on the list of personnel as well and as if on cue her phone began to vibrate, displaying the same message as the notification Connor had received. 

Lindsay groaned as she picked up the device. ‘I hate this fucking job.’ 

He watched as she read the message while draining the last of her coffee. Then she sighed and rose from the table.

‘I’m just gonna get dressed and go brush my teeth really quick.’ 

‘People could be dying and you’re worried about personal hygiene.’ 

‘If I don’t at least brush my teeth before we go, people will _definitely_ die,’ Lindsay said, already halfway out of the kitchen.

‘I thought that only applied to you not having coffee before you do anything,’ Connor called after her.

He could hear Lindsay laugh even as she walked up the stairs. 

 

Connor sat at the table for a moment longer, mourning the loss of his Saturday morning. Then he reminded himself that he was luckier than most other androids; he was alive, he had a good job and a place to stay. There was nothing to complain about. So he followed Lindsay upstairs, deciding it would be a good idea for him to change into a fresh, non-wrinkled shirt.

 

When he entered their shared bedroom, which seemed ironic because he _didn’t sleep_ , Lindsay was yanking a pair of jeans over her hips. Connor shuffled past her to get to his side of the wardrobe, expertly navigating around the various pieces of Lindsay’s clothing on the ground. What was so challenging about placing dirty clothes in the laundry basket and clean clothes in the wardrobe, Connor would never understand.

 

‘This better be good,’ Lindsay said, voice temporarily muffled when she pulled a shirt over her head.

‘ _Good_ is hardly an appropriate description in this case.’

She laughed. ‘Fine. This better be _worth it_.’

Somewhere in his processing unit a socializing protocol opened, informing him that with lives potentially at stake, it was highly inappropriate to make jokes.

‘That’s… even worse.’

Humans sometimes had the strangest sense of humour, wildly diverting from the directory code embedded in his software. He saved the thought process and stored it away to analyse at a later time.

 

‘Ready to go?’

Connor frowned over at Lindsay. He wasn’t an expert by any means but her hair was still all over the place, curly strands clinging to one another in a frizzy mess.

‘ _Are you_?’

Lindsay seemed to guess what he was thinking. ‘I’ll fix my hair in the car or we’re going to be _really_ late.’

 

And true to her word, she did put her hair up in the car, looking perfectly put together albeit a bit tired by the time they arrived. They both turned around at the same time to grab their jackets from the backseat although Connor was at a clear advantage just because he had longer arms and was actually able to reach the items easily. He passed Lindsay her jacket before slipping on his own, dwelling on how familiar yet different the garment looked. The design was very much the same as his CyberLife jacket had been with the difference that it no longer carried anything that would identify him as an android. Instead it had his name on the front and the word _specialist_ on the back. Technically he didn’t hold an official position with the police because he wasn’t even considered a person by law. _Yet._

Lindsay’s jacket looked even more like her CyberLife one had, only the logos of her former employer removed. Connor had caught her cringing at her own reflection when wearing the garment more than once but he was yet to ask her about it. For now they had a job to do. He smoothed down his jacket and exited the car.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I hate writing things with actual plot and half of this was written mid-mental breakdown so idek what this is. also how did this get so long wtf

Connor forced the thought process aside, clearing some space for more practical and task-oriented processes, like the scene ahead of them. The crime scene itself appeared to be a rather luxurious residence, the property currently crowded with both police and a Swat hostage rescue unit.

Quickly accessing the city’s housing and construction database told him it was a five bedroom, three bathroom residence with a two car garage. The entire street had been closed off, police tape spanning the width of the road and guarded by security androids. At first glance Connor wasn’t able to spot anyone from his own unit dealing with android related crime although it was difficult to make out anyone in the bustle of people. Even for him.

 

‘This is a fancy area, must be rich people,’ Lindsay said. Connor didn’t get to inform her of his findings regarding the house when the Commander of the Swat team waved them over to the temporary coordination centre set up in the back of a van. A quick scan revealed the man to be Commander Michael Parson, born on 5th August 2005. He had a rather impressive record of hostage rescues, counter-terrorism related deployments and very successful drug raids. Despite all of that he seemed stressed.

 

 

‘Fucking finally,’ the man hissed when they reached him. Only seventeen minutes had passed between the dispatch notification and their arrival, thirteen of which had been travel time to the location.

‘ _Good morning to you, too, Commander Parson_.’ Connor used his most polite voice. Commander Parson pulled a face, a vein on his forehead popping out dangerously.

The androids self-preservation protocol activated and immediately calculated a 67% chance of being attacked by the man.

‘There was  _a lot_  of traffic,’ Lindsay spoke up, voice all friendly professionalism. It was a lie. ‘But we’re here now so let’s not waste any more time. So what do we have?’

Parson still looked angry but seemed to relax at least a little. Connor’s self-preservation protocol calmed down, too.

 

‘Not much,’ the Commander said then. ‘Two people were inside the house when an armed android broke in. The wife made it out, she’s over there. The android took the husband hostage and has barricaded them inside the house. We’ve tried sending a micro-drone in but it didn’t get through the security system. The place is practically a fortress with the system activated. The wife tried to get us in but the android must have changed the code.’ The man stopped talking and both Lindsay and Connor waited for him to continue. Connor used the time to start analysing the security system and do some background research on the company that produced it. After a few seconds it became apparent that Parsons wasn’t going to continue.

‘Is that it?’ Lindsay checked, eyebrows raised.

‘I told you it wasn’t much. You can try talking to the wife but she’s pretty upset, doesn’t seem to know much.’ 

Connor looked over at the woman. Even from a distance it was obvious that she was distraught. 

‘You two better get this sorted. That’s McMillian in there. Fuck this up and we’re all screwed.’

The Commander stomped off, barking orders at some of his men. 

 

Lindsay watched him leave, waiting until he was out of earshot. ‘Alright, fill me in. Who the hell is this McMillian guy?’ 

Connor put his security research on hold for a moment. ‘He’s a high ranking politician in the state government who has recently gained popularity with his campaign for anti-android policies.’ 

‘Anti-android policies?’ she frowned. ‘That’s a bit of a weird coincidence.’

‘It’s certainly suspicious.’ 

‘Anything else I should know?’ 

‘Commander Parson was correct when he said the house is practically a fortress with the security system in shutdown mode. Not only are the windows and doors locked but the windows are also protected by a special type of blind that makes it impossible to see inside the house. It’s a top of the line system that takes a specialist to breach, even temporarily.’ 

‘So we can’t even get in?’ 

‘Not at the moment,’ Connor confirmed. ‘But I’ve tracked down a nearby technician who works for the company that manufactures the system. I’m contacting him as we speak. According to my research he should be able to override the lock on the front door for 5.2 seconds. Enough time for someone to enter the house.’ 

‘That’s... very efficient.’ 

‘The technician has confirmed he will arrive in approximately fifteen minutes.’ 

‘Let’s go talk to our witness then.’ Lindsay easily climbed out of the back of the Swat van. ‘Oh by the way - good job.’ 

 

 

Patricia McMillian was 52 years old and not as well-known as her husband. Other than occasionally accompanying him to formal dinners and other political functions, she didn’t seem to do much. Connor noted that the woman had recently been in the spotlight more frequently to support her husband’s anti-android campaign. She most likely wouldn’t be very receptive to him.

Currently she was sitting in the back of an empty police car, doors open, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a cup filled with a hot beverage in her hands. The woman climbed out of the car when she noticed them but didn’t look up. Her heart rate was elevated, understandable considering the situation she was in, and she appeared to be in a state of shock. While her condition wasn’t surprising, it was unfortunate because it made her hard to read. Nearly all data Connor would normally collect from her body’s unintentional reactions would be rendered useless. Connor decided to stay behind Lindsay as they approached the witness.

 

 

‘Ma’am?’ 

The woman’s glassy blue eyes looked from the ground up to Lindsay. 

‘My name is Lindsay and this is Connor. We’re the specialists in android behaviour that the police told you about. We’d like to gather some information on the suspect before negotiating with him. Is it alright if we ask you a few questions?’ Connor noted that she spoke softly, keeping her tone friendly but not overly so.

Patricia McMillian studied Lindsay for a moment longer before her eyes drifted over to Connor. It only took 0.6 seconds for her facial expression to change. 

‘I’m not talking to... to one of  _those things_.’ 

‘Ma’am...’ 

‘One of those things has my husband and you’re expecting me to cooperate with this...’ 

‘ _Ma’am_ ,’ Lindsay interrupted her sharply, ‘I understand that you’re upset, but it would be very helpful if you could stop insulting my partner and let us do our job.’ 

Connor made sure to keep his expression carefully neutral during the entire exchange. The woman’s eyes moved away from him and back to Lindsay, seemingly searching for something. She didn’t find it and her gaze dropped back down to the ground. 

‘Alright.’ She sniffled. 

 

They had already lost valuable time, 28 seconds to be exact, and Connor just wanted to get the information he needed. But with the witness in so much distress it was best to let Lindsay take the lead. 

 

‘Can you tell me what happened before your husband was captured?’ 

‘We... I don’t know, it all happened so fast. We were in the kitchen, eating breakfast. Then that thing...  _the android_ , it must have broken through the back door.’ The woman raised her hand, the motion immediately catching Connor’s attention. It looked like she was trying to cover up her face. But then she went to rub at her nose. The action made sense, considering there was a significant amount of discharge in the area. 

 

‘It... It had a gun and started yelling at us, something about wanting our car. My husband, he told me to run and I did and there was this horrible noise and I heard him scream.’ She broke out in tears again. ‘I’m not helping, I’m not...’ 

‘You’re doing great.’ Lindsay said firmly but not unkindly. 

Patricia McMillian nodded and used a tissue to blot at her face.

 

‘Can you describe the android?’ Connor asked, feeling it was finally safe to involve himself in the conversation. 

‘He... I didn’t see much. About average height, average build. He just looked…  _normal_.’ Then she seemed to think for a moment. ‘He didn’t have his...’ she gestured up to her temple, finger drawing a little circle in the air.

He nodded in understanding. It was a very specific thing to notice for someone claiming they hadn’t seen much.

 

‘Can you describe the attacker’s gun?’ 

‘I don’t know, it was small... Just a handgun.’ 

‘Are there any other weapons in the house?’ 

The woman’s hand moved up to her face again, this time covering part of her mouth. ‘No, we don’t own any guns or anything like that.’  _Interesting._

Lindsay nodded. ‘You’re doing great, Patricia. Is there anything else you can tell us?’

The woman shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I really didn’t see anything.’

‘Thank you so much, Ma’am. You’ve been a wonderful help.’ 

‘Please rescue my husband.  _Please_.’ 

‘We will.’ Lindsay was bluffing. There was only a 29% chance of success based on their current information. Lindsay might have not known the exact numbers but she knew they had nothing to go on. 

‘I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. I was just... upset.’ The witness turned to Connor. 

‘It’s alright, Ma’am. ‘ 

 

They left the woman to her own devices and she returned to the back of the police car.

‘Well, that was  _helpful_.’ Lindsay rubbed at her temple and frowned, a clear sign of her frustration. 

‘She was lying.’ 

‘What makes you say that?’ 

‘She raised her hand to her mouth. The first time I noticed she was only touching her nose. But the second time she covered up part of her mouth when she told you they didn’t own any guns. I say she’s lying.’ 

Lindsay’s frown deepened. ‘She did it when she apologized to you.’ 

He nodded slowly. The apology being dishonest hadn’t been of particular interest to him, so he hadn’t mentioned it. But he was still surprised that Lindsay had noticed it.

 

‘But why lie when her husband is in danger?’ 

‘I don’t know, whatever she’s hiding is probably something embarrassing.’ 

‘I fail to see how that compares to her husband’s life being at stake.’

Lindsay sighed. ‘It doesn’t, really. But humans are weird like that. ‘

Connor nodded, processing this information. Public humiliation was something humans appeared to fear intensely. If whatever the McMillians had to hide put them at risk of embarrassment, especially considering the public eye was on them, it was likely that Patricia McMillian would lie, even if it meant further endangering her husband. It could be something completely irrelevant to their current problem.

 

But there was another thing Connor had noticed. 

‘Commander Parson said the woman believes the attacker changed the code for the security system. Isn’t it strange that that’s something he thought of?’ 

‘If it’s a spontaneous attack, yes.’ 

‘So it was either planned or the android is familiar with this type of system. A maintenance model, maybe. Considering the woman had seen enough of him to notice his LED was removed but she couldn’t name the model, I assume it’s a less commonly seen build. Maybe a TG400.’ 

Lindsay seemed to consider this for a moment. ‘Agreed,’ she said eventually. ‘That still only leaves us with the bare minimum. And we can’t just  _not_  do anything because we believe she’s lying. There’s no time to question her any further either. If anything happens to McMillian because we hesitated over something as potentially unimportant as them owning a gun, or if we’re wrong about her lying... That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen. His position isn’t helping either. They’re going to say you didn’t help him on purpose because of his campaign, maybe even go so far as to say this whole thing was planned.’ 

Lindsay was right. They had no choice. They needed to act and  _fast_.

 

‘My suggestion is that I go in by myself.’ Connor waited for Lindsay to start arguing. 

‘Agreed.’ 

‘That was... easier than expected.’ 

Lindsay shrugged. ‘We don’t know what’s going on in there. I’d be nothing but a liability if things were to go south.’ She smiled at him. ‘I know when I’m useless.’ 

 

Once the security technician Connor had contacted arrived, it only took four minutes and forty-nine seconds for the team to get ready. There wasn’t much Connor was able to do to prepare himself. He was given a gun though. While still not legally allowed to carry a gun any other time, this was considered a special case as the Swat team had no access to the dwelling and therefor weren’t able to neutralize the suspect if it were necessary.  _Self-preservation._  

Lindsay watched as he slipped a gun holster over his shirt and pulled his jacket back on. 

‘Any advice?’ 

‘Don’t get shot.’ Her tone was playful but her expression remained serious.

‘Very helpful, thank you.’ 

‘Don’t risk yourself for McMillian. I know what Parson said but... It’s not worth it.’ 

‘You said it yourself; if anything happens to him it will reflect badly on all androids.’ 

‘That’s still not worth getting hurt for.’ 

Connor nodded slowly, although according to his calculations the  _greater good_  was far more important. People had died for their revolution and to achieve what little they had now. Compared to that he was expendable. But he didn’t say it. The team was ready. Time to go.

 

‘Connor?’ 

He paused and turned around. ‘What is it?’

‘Be careful, yeah?’ 

Connor nodded. Originally he hadn’t understood the sentiment. It wasn’t like he ever went into a situation with the intent of being damaged. But eventually he had learned to appreciate the concern for his welfare. ‘I always am.’ 

 

Connor felt odd when he walked past the Swat team waiting on standby near the door. Parson had them waiting there, but what for Connor wasn’t sure. They couldn’t even enter the house or see anything that was happening inside. He supposed Parson just didn’t like feeling useless. 

 

The electronics specialist was waiting for Connor at the door, a tablet connected to the security panel there. He was human, which was rare for someone in his position. ‘Ready?’ 

Connor nodded. The man tapped what seemed to be an override code into his tablet and the security system made an aggressive noise of protest as the door was forced to unlock. Connor pushed it open and the noise turned into a screeching alarm. He stepped through the door and it immediately fell shut behind him, re-locking itself. 

‘Who’s there?’ a voice loaded with static called from somewhere. 

 

_Start-up auditory input location sequence_

_Calculating distance_

_Distance calculated_

_Finding position_

_Analysing position data_

_Analyses complete_

_Auditory input location found_

 

He opened the floor plan of the house he had downloaded earlier and the location sequence highlighted the area it had calculated as the source of the voice. The lounge room upstairs. Connor didn’t have a lot of time to waste here. The knowledge of an intruder could potentially tip the android over the edge which could cause him to harm McMillian. If he hadn’t already. 

But still Connor checked the security panel next to the door. 

 

_Shutdown mode - code required to deactivate_

 

Since it had apparently been the attacker who had changed the code, Connor couldn’t even begin to guess what it was. There was no point in trying. He was on his own.

 

Connor had no more time to waste and made his way to the stairs. He paused at the bottom for a moment, spotting a small trace of a suspiciously blue-looking fluid on the railing. He swiped his index and middle finger through the patch and brought it up to his lips. 

 

_Evidence analyses 53%_

_Evidence analyses 78%_

_Evidence analyses 99%_

_Analyses complete_

_Thirium 310 detected_

 

Interesting. So the suspect was most likely injured. The witness hadn’t mentioned any injuries. She either hadn’t taken any note of them or the suspect had only sustained them after she had fled. There was no time to try and reconstruct the scene. The android knew he was here already so Connor began to make his way up the stairs. 

 

The upper living area was based on an open floor plan with the stairs at its centre so he would become visible to the suspect as he ascended.  _Visible and at a clear disadvantage._  Based on the location sequence the other android was at the back of the room, across from the stairs. Connor made sure to keep his movements slow and steady as he reached the halfway point, open palms facing the top of the stairs. It was vital to look as non-threatening as possible to minimize his chances of getting shot on sight. 

 

When he reached the seventh step he slowed down even further. According to his calculations this was when he would become visible to the suspect. 

‘Stay back!’ a voice yelled as if on cue. 

‘I’m just here to talk.’ He continued to ascend. 

_Step 8._

_Step 9._

‘Are you armed?’ 

‘I’m not.’ His gun wasn’t visible under his jacket. Finally he was up high enough to catch a glance of the attacker. McMillian was next to him, hyperventilating. 

_Step 10._

‘Don’t try anything or I’ll shoot him.’ The other android waved his gun at the man’s head.

_Step 11._

_Step 12._

‘As I said, I’m just here to talk.’  _Step 13._  ‘I want to help you.’ 

_Step 14. Finally._

 

‘You’re lying. You can’t help me.’ 

Connor took a second to analyse the android. A TG400, just like he had suspected.  _Serial Number 313 420 533 - 701_ , called Stuart. Formerly employed at  _FlexiTec Security_ , the company that manufactured the security system. Stopped showing up for work three weeks ago. There was blue blood running from his hairline across his face.

 

_Stress level: 89%_

 

‘Your name is Stuart, right? I’m Connor, the android sent by the police to negotiate with you.’ 

Stuart’s eyes widened for a moment. 

‘You’re... You’re  _that_  android. I saw you on TV at the end of the riots.’ 

Right, the revolution thing. He forgot he had been on TV sometimes. People, especially androids, tended to remember him on occasion.

 

‘That’s right.’ Connor took a step closer, focusing on McMillian for a second. The man’s heart rate was at 124. Sweat was dripping down his face although a heat signature scan revealed no increased body temperature. He was shaking, legs looking like they were just about ready to give out. Stuart had gripped him by the throat, although not tight enough to do any damage. 

 

‘Mr McMillian, are you alright?’ 

The man made a noise that vaguely sounded like  _yes_. Good enough, Connor concluded, focusing his attention on Stuart again. 

‘I need you to let the man go, Stuart.’ 

The gun in Stuart’s hand began shaking so violently Connor thought he might drop it. Instead his hand moved until the gun was pointed at Connor’s head. 

‘You can’t tell me what to do.’ 

 

His stress level still hadn’t lowered. Maybe a firmer approach would help. 

‘I’m your last chance. There’s a technician downstairs, working on deactivating the security system as we speak. There are snipers on the roofs of every neighbouring house. Once the system is down they will target you and they won’t hesitate to shoot.’ 

Stuart’s eyes flickered to the nearest window and back. ‘You’re lying.’ 

‘It’s up to you to believe me or not.’ 

 

His hand holding the gun shook a little more. ‘You... you  _don’t understand_. They were torturing me. They captured me and tortured me.’ 

Connor blinked, trying not to let his confusion show on his face. ‘What are you talking about?’ 

‘McMillian and his wife... they locked me up. They  _hurt_  me. I just... I just wanted to get away from them.’ Stuart’s eyes were wide with fear but he seemed a little less manic now.

 

_Stress level: 80%_

 

Connor didn’t know what to believe but he decided to play along, taking another step towards Stuart. 

‘They can’t hurt you anymore now. But I need you to put the gun down.’

The android looked over at his hostage before he looked back at Connor. ‘No. No, I can’t do that.’ 

‘It’s your only option, Stuart.’ 

He shook his head frantically. ‘No. You get me a car and make sure I get away from here.’ 

‘We both know that won’t happen.’

‘Why won’t you help me?’

Connor could feel himself starting to become frustrated. It was an inconvenient side-effect of deviancy. Feelings had never been a problem before because he hadn’t had them.

 

‘I’m  _trying_  to help you, Stuart. But it’s difficult to do while you’re pointing a gun at me and holding a man hostage.’

‘They hate us. McMillian and his wife, they want to see us all dead. You don’t understand… But I do. Humans are all like that. They want to keep everything to themselves and they… they hate us.  _Every single one of them_.’ He practically spat the words out, his rapidly changing speech pattern indicating his confusion. Connor concluded that the other android was unpredictable.

‘You know that’s not true.’

‘You’re on their side, aren’t you?’

‘I’m not on anyone’s side, Stuart. I’m just trying to prevent anyone getting hurt.’

It was the wrong thing to say.

‘It’s way too late for that.’ Stuart’s grip around McMillians throat tightened. 

 

_Stress level: 87%_

 

The man coughed and renewed his struggle but to no avail. Connor noted the progressively reddening shade of his face. While the flow of blood, and therefore oxygen, to his brain was not at optimal volume, Connor estimated that the man still wasn’t in immediate danger. 

‘Let him go, Stuart. Then we can talk about your demands.’ Maybe bringing his attention back to the car he claimed he wanted would help calm him down.

‘If I let him go they’re just going to shoot me.’ 

‘Nothing will happen to you if you let the man go. You have my word.’ 

Stuart looked over at McMillian and his grip loosened. The gun in his other hand sank slightly. 

 

_Stress level: 73%_

 

Clearly his more sympathetic approach was working well, much better than just threatening the other android. Connor took another step forward, hands still open at his sides. ‘Put the gun down, Stuart.’

He looked hesitant but his hand holding the weapon sank a little further, the pressure on McMillian’s throat eased.

 

_Stress level: 65%_

 

‘You’re not going to let them deactivate me?’ 

‘We don’t do that anymore. You won’t be deactivated. Instead you will be given a fair trial.’ Another lie. Androids weren’t people yet. There were no trials. But Stuart didn’t know that. It looked like he was ready to give up, the thought of being treated fairly clearly helping to convince him. 

‘Let the man go. You will be treated well, kept in humane conditions until your trial starts.’ 

‘You’re... you’re going to arrest me? Lock me up?’

The panic in his voice renewed, stress level spiking. Connor’s processors worked in overdrive to find where he had gone wrong. But he was out of time when Stuart began shaking his head frantically. ‘I don’t want to be locked up, I don’t want to be locked up...’ 

Connor could only watch as something in the other androids expression changed, terror shifting into determination. ‘I’d rather die.’ 

The notification box at the edge of Connor’s vision turned red.

 

_Stress level: 96%_

 

Stuart’s grip around McMillian’s throat tightened immensely, the man beginning to sputter and claw at the android’s arm. 

The gun in Stuart’s hand was shaking even as he moved his finger down to the trigger. 

But Connor was faster, his own hand pulling the gun from the holster at his side. 

He didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. 

Connor only shot once, yet his auditory input unit registered two shots. McMillian fell to his knees but immediately scrambled to his feet and stumbled away from Stuart. 

 

The sharp pain in Connor’s left thigh only lasted 0.3 seconds before his systems automatically switched off the sensory receptors in that area.

 

_Warning: Section E4 damaged_

_Epidermis ruptured_

_Exoskeleton punctured_

_Biocomponent #egb4337 damaged_

_Circulatory system damaged_

_Extent: non-vital_

_Redirecting thirium flow..._

_Thirium flow redirected_

_Thirium level: 99%_

 

Connor glanced down at his leg. The fabric of his pants was soaked in blood around the area of the entry wound. But he hadn’t sustained any major damage and was going to be able to continue functioning for a while before the literal hole in his leg would become an issue.

 Then he finally looked over at Stuart, just to see what he already knew was there; a gunshot wound, the bullet having pierced his artificial brain. A perfect headshot. Connor never missed. 

 

Stuart’s body had been knocked back by the force of the impact, no longer functioning legs having given in, forcing the now lifeless android into a bizarre sitting position with his back leaned against the wall and legs sprawled out in front of him at unusual angles. A line of blue along the wall traced the route his damaged skull had taken, from the entry point of the bullet in the wall down to where his head rested now, chin pressed into his chest. 

 

From downstairs the door alarm sounded as McMillian made his escape. Connor didn’t move. A life had been at risk and he had detected an inarguable possibility of an immediate threat to both himself and the hostage in Stuart’s increasing stress level. Shooting him had been the right decision to make. 

But then why did it feel so wrong? 

 

He heard what he assumed was the Swat-team entering the house, not bothering to analyse the sound just to be certain. Then he realized what the gunshots followed by the former hostage exiting the house by himself looked like. From downstairs he heard the various shouts of  _clear_  as the team were searching the house. 

‘Suspect neutralized,’ Connor called out and the situation seemed to relax. Still he wasn’t able to tear himself away from the sight of Stuart’s body. 

 

It took another 37 seconds until someone came up behind him. Light footsteps, no combat boots. The lack of other noise indicating no body armour. 

‘Hey.’ Warm fingers brushed against his own for a second before retreating.  _No touching at work._  

 

‘You should be outside. They’re not done sweeping the house yet.’ For a moment he wondered if the sight of the body would upset Lindsay. Then he remembered that Stuart hadn’t been human. She had seen plenty of destroyed androids.

‘I know,’ Lindsay said but didn’t leave. ‘You alright?’ 

Connor nodded, then remembered to be honest. ‘I’ve been shot.’ 

‘I can see that.’ Lindsay looked down at his damaged thigh for a moment. Connor estimated that in a less serious situation there would have been a 97% chance of her asking ‘ _Didn’t I tell you not to get shot?_ ’. He almost wished she would say it now.

 

The Swat team appeared behind them. ‘Let’s go get you patched up.’ 

‘In a minute.’ 

He heard Lindsay exhale, almost loud enough to be a sigh. 

‘I’m sure you did the right thing.’ 

‘I’m not doubting myself.’ 

‘Then why are you still up here?’

Connor couldn’t detect any malice in her tone. She just sounded... tired. 

They headed down the stairs, past the Swat team. No one bothered to acknowledge them. Connor supposed neither one of their jobs was very popular with the team. 

 

Outside, McMillian and his wife were reunited. The man’s face was still bright red but he seemed to feel fine as his wife was hysterically sobbing into his chest. When his eyes met Connor’s, he looked away immediately.

 

‘So much for gratitude,’ Lindsay muttered next to him. 

For a moment Connor wondered if he cared if the man was grateful or not. He didn’t because the feeling made no difference. Connor had been here to do a job, which included saving the man’s life. He had succeeded. How the man felt about it was of no consequence.

Or was it? 

 

His train of thought came to a halt when he decided to redirect his focus to walking, the damage to his thigh plates and the destroyed biocomponent mimicking human muscles making him 13% less steady than usual. It wasn’t enough to negatively impact him but still enough to be noticeable when he walked. The uneven surface of the McMillian’s front lawn didn’t help either. 

‘Alright, you go get in the car and I tell Parsons we’re leaving.’

Connor considered telling her there was no need for that but he also didn’t want to deal with the Commander. So instead, he headed back to the car, this time sitting in the passenger’s seat. There was no way Lindsay would agree to him driving after he’d been shot in the leg. 

 

While he waited, Connor ran a quick diagnostic scan ( _non-critical damage to sector E4, all systems functional, Thirium level at 97%_ ) and sent the results to a nearby  _clinic_ , formerly known as a CyberLife store. He had been there for repairs before and both Lindsay and him had decided they liked one of the technicians called Ethan. 

 

The reply from the clinic came almost immediately. They had compatible parts, which was a relief considering Connor was a prototype, and Ethan had agreed to patch Connor up as soon as they arrived. Then he resigned to waiting for Lindsay to finish things up with Parson. 

 

Four minutes and twenty seven seconds passed and Connor began to wonder if he should go look for her. But then the driver’s side door opened. 

‘Fucking hell,’ Lindsay swore under her breath, ‘Parson wouldn’t shut up.’ She dropped down on the chair, sliding it forward so she could reach the pedals. ‘I swear he talks like he did all the fucking work.’

 Her phone fell into the centre console with a loud clattering noise. 

‘You’re going to break your phone.’ 

‘Good excuse to get a new one.’ Lindsay shrugged. ‘Anyway, how’s the leg?’ 

‘My thigh plates and biocomponent need to be replaced. The clinic have suitable components and I can be repaired whenever I arrive.’ 

‘Alright, let’s go then.’ 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to only be three chapters long but because I have no life and I like the concept of this, I’ve decided to make it a bit longer! We’re currently looking at somewhere around six chapters but we’ll see how we go I guess. I’ll be updating the tags (and probably the rating) before the next chapter will be posted as well. 
> 
> Todays fun fact: the L-key on my laptop has been missing for years and i really hate myself for giving one of my main characters a name starting with L whoops haha

It began to rain almost as soon as they left, which was unsurprising. Today’s forecast had promised a 92% chance of rain after all. Connor estimated that the current downpour equalled 32 millimetres per hour. He also noticed that he found it strangely soothing. The rain obscured the outside world, making it impossible to see more than a few meters at a time. It also created an almost deafening roar that muted any other sounds apart from the rhythmic noise of the windscreen wipers. 

 

Next to him Lindsay swore under her breath when the car in front of them slowed down to only approximately 25 kilometres per hour. 

‘Based on the fact that the car ahead is an autonomous vehicle, this must be the safest speed in these conditions,’ Connor informed her. 

‘ _Fuck me_ , I can walk faster than this.’ 

He ignored the profanities. ‘Your average walking speed is 5,4 kilometres per hour.’

‘Yeah well, I said I _can_ walk faster, not I _do_ walk faster.’ Then she paused and looked over at him. ‘My average walking speed? Seriously?’ 

‘Eyes on the road,’ Connor told her. ‘I don’t understand why you’re surprised at my knowledge of this information.’ 

‘It’s... _Never mind_. You’re right. Knowing someone’s average walking speed is _totally_ normal.’ 

 

Her tone was serious yet Connor felt like he was missing something. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to analyse the situation any further. Instead he sent a quick message to Ethan at the clinic to let him know they were on their way but it was going to take a while due to the current weather conditions. 

Then he went back to watching the rain.

Connor supposed it would be nicer to watch the rain from at home. He looked over at Lindsay to gauge if she was upset because it was raining. Her complaints about the weather in Detroit were rather frequent. Too cold, too windy, too rainy. According to her it didn’t compare to _home_. Which was true. The statistics he had downloaded proved that the weather in _Detroit, Michigan_ wasn’t the same as in _Huntington Beach, California_. Although Connor wasn’t in any position to judge if the weather in California was _nicer_ than the weather in Michigan. He only knew it was _different_. He hadn’t experienced such a mild climate before, only what passed as summer in Detroit, so he had no frame of reference.

 

Almost as if on cue Lindsay’s hand moved from the steering wheel to the control panel of the car, adjusting the temperature from 19C to 22C. 

At least that stayed predictable. 

 

Connor had decided he liked predictability. _Routine._ Even though he was designed to adjust to human _unpredictability_. But CyberLife had designed him to be so many things that didn’t apply to him anymore now. Maybe adjusting was one of those things. 

 

Lindsay’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ 

‘About what?’ Connor was almost entirely certain he knew what she was talking about; the hostage situation. 

‘I’ll take that as a no.’ She had always been patient. He dreaded the day her patience would run out.

 

They sat in silence for the rest of the trip. It was still raining when they arrived at the clinic. 

‘Do you want me to come with you or do you want to go by yourself?’ 

Lindsay asked every time although his answer had never changed. 

‘I’d like you to accompany me.’ His answer never changed either.

 

She frowned up at the sky before pulling the hood of her jacket over her head. When Lindsay got out of the car she began making a little screeching noise that lasted until they made it inside the clinic. She saw the way Connor looked at her and laughed. ‘I know, I know _. Can’t take me anywhere_.’ 

 

The clinic, housed in a former CyberLife store, seemed fairly quiet. A small lobby, currently unoccupied, and a waiting room replaced what had used to be the shopfloor. Connor knew from experience that the _treatment rooms_ , formerly workshops, hadn’t changed much. With so many identical looking androids around it had always been important to keep them separated. Humans didn’t appreciate getting their androids mixed up.

 

Next to him, Lindsay’s nails were tapping the dark timber of the reception desk. So much for patience.

‘This was a lot more convenient when I was still working for CyberLife.’

Connor tucked his hand into his pocket, fingers tracing the edge of his coin. Lindsay was right. When he had previously been damaged on missions they would just walk into the store and Lindsay would swipe her employee ID. Someone would come running to fix him. They always did when someone from head office showed up.

‘Do you miss it?’

‘Working for a manipulative, evil company that was ready to enslave a whole species? No.’ She seemed to think for a moment. ‘I do miss the pay though. I never realized how badly the government paid.’

 

Connor accessed what was left of CyberLife’s employee network, searching the pay roll. Then he compared it to Lindsay’s most recent bank statement. Her salary had indeed dropped by a quarter.

He briefly wondered if this was something he should even be looking at. Technically it was private information. Badly protected private information.

But he didn’t have time to think about the issue any further when Ethan appeared.

‘Oh look, it’s my favourite couple! I’ve got treatment room 3 ready for you, I’m sure you can find the way yourselves. I’ll be with you in just a minute.’

 

They passed the waiting room full of concerned-looking androids and humans, some of them talking in hushed voices. 

‘Do you want me to wait out here?’ 

Connor shook his head. He liked having Lindsay in the treatment room with him.

 

The treatment room itself was medium-sized, a bed, two tables with supplies and a large diagnostics tablet occupying one side of the space. A large cabinet spanned the far side of the room. It looked almost exactly like it had when the place had still been owned by CyberLife. A new addition was the privacy screen to get changed behind and two chairs.

 

Lindsay went to sit on her customary chair at the foot of the bed while Connor sat on the bed itself. It was almost routine by now, evidence that they came here too often.

Suddenly the door opened halfway and Ethan’s head appeared.

‘Forgot to leave this here,‘ he said while handing Connor a white hospital gown. ‘Please put it on and I will be back in a moment.’ 

Connor made his way behind the privacy screen and stripped out of his clothes, neatly folded them and placed them on a chair. Then he put the gown on and moved back to sit on the bed.

Lindsay looked up from her phone and over at him from her spot on the chair, feet propped against the metal frame of the bed. 

‘You look ridiculous in that.’ She said it with a smile and no malice in her tone whatsoever. 

‘Says you.’ His socializing protocol told him the implication of his words was rude but he ignored it, confident Lindsay would know what he meant. 

Connor got his reply when he was hit in the shoulder by a cotton swab. 

‘ _Rude._ ’ Lindsay echoed the protocol although she didn’t seem offended in the slightest. 

He picked the swab up from where it had bounced off his shoulder and onto the bed to place it on the table next to him. 

It only took three seconds for him to be hit by another swab. 

Lindsay snorted as he removed this one as well. 

Connor caught the third swab in mid-air. 

‘Stop throwing things.’ 

‘Alright, fine.’ 

 

The fourth swab came flying at him only four seconds later.

This time, Connor moved to throw it back at Lindsay. But right as he was mid-throw, the door opened and Ethan entered. The swab hit Lindsay in the knee and Ethan frowned. 

‘What on earth are you two doing?’ 

‘Nothing,’ Lindsay managed to say in a serious tone before she broke down in almost hysterical laughter. Ethan shook his head but began to laugh as well as he set the two boxes of replacement parts he was carrying down on the table. ‘I’m glad to see that getting shot doesn’t affect you at all.’

Connor shrugged. 

 

Ethan looked like he was going to say something but then his attention was drawn to the crinkling noise of plastic. Lindsay was unwrapping one of the chocolate bars kept on the table next to her. ‘Hey you know those are for _concerned_ humans accompanying androids, right?’ 

She grinned at Ethan. ‘I’m a _very concerned_ human who needs some sugary serotonin.’ 

‘You don’t even care. You’re the absolute worst.’ 

‘Oh give me a break, I haven’t eaten yet.’ 

Ethan turned back to him. ‘Forgot to feed your human again?’ 

‘Apparently.’ 

The other android shook his head before he sighed. ‘Alright, let’s get started.’

 

He pulled the diagnostics screen closer to him and checked the readings. ‘Please remove your epidermis from section D2 to F5.’ 

Connor was aware that a lot of androids were uncomfortable removing their skin to expose their exoskeleton, especially in front of humans. Initially he had wondered if this was something he should be concerned about as well but he had quickly realized that Lindsay knew exactly what lay beneath his artificial skin. She didn’t seem to mind. 

The bullet wound in his leg looked a lot cleaner without the torn epidermis around it, a nearly perfect hole in his frontal thigh plate and presumably something similar in the back of his thigh. 

Ethan’s hands, now without their epidermis as well, moved back to the tablet to enter the commands that would make Connor’s thigh plates removable. A warning popped up at the edge of his vision, alerting him to external access to his software but he ignored it. 

 

His thigh plates came off easily, leaving Connor with only his biocomponents mimicking human muscles and tendons, the artificial veins that composited his circulatory system and various wires and fasteners. 

Ethan then moved to grab the replacement parts and positioned them easily. They snapped into place as Connor’s system automatically updated itself, alerting him to the new parts. 

 

His damaged biocomponent wasn’t quite so easy to remove and his system forced various warnings into his vision during the entire process. Connor began to forcibly close them when they started to take up too much of his vision and the constant flashing became annoying. Then another red box popped up, this time in the centre of his vision. 

 

_Circulatory system damage - critical Thirium leak in sector E4 detected_

_Loss rate: 350.2ml per minute_

_Redirecting Thirium_

_Redirection failed_

_Thirium level: 85%_

_Time estimated until critically low level: 168 sec - 167 sec - 166 sec_

 

Ethan swore as the pool of blue blood became bigger, slowly trickling down the edge of the bed and onto the tiled floor. His hands were quite literally caught up in Connor’s thigh, trying to put the new biocomponent in place. 

 

The bed shifted very slightly when Lindsay moved her feet off of the metal frame and reached for a pair of rubber gloves on the table next to her. She moved across the room even as she put them on and grabbed a bag of Thirium and a line from a cupboard. 

Connor removed his epidermis from his left wrist as she returned to the bed. He even managed to get his system to unlock the port on the inside of his wrist, despite the annoying warning that seemed to take up every available process. 

Lindsay expertly connected the line to his port before connecting it to the Thirium bag, which she then hooked onto a slot at the edge of the bed. 

 

_Additional Thirium source detected_

_Equalizing loss rate_

_Loss rate equalized_

_Thirium supply stable_

_Thirium level: 80%_

 

Then Lindsay moved over to the tablet, presumably to check his diagnostics for herself.

‘Looks like you hit the femoral artery. Loss rate of 350 mil, about two and a half minutes until the bag runs out.’

‘Shit, sorry.’ Ethan looked genuinely upset. ‘Forgot your artery was right there. Your model’s circulatory system is so different.’

Connor shrugged. The situation was under control right now, nothing to be concerned about.

 

Eventually Ethan managed to put the biocomponent in place and fixed up the artificial vein he had damaged.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked then.

‘I’m fine.’

Ethan didn’t seem convinced. ‘Your Thirium level is only at 70%. I’ll get you topped up in a minute,’ he said while cleaning up some of the supplies he had used. Then his movements halted. ‘Sorry, I’m not meant to say that. I’ll restore your blood levels in a minute.’

Connor tilted his head to the side to indicate his confusion. The wording was different but the meaning remained the same.

‘It’s de-humanizing to say ‘top up’. That’s why we’re not meant to use it,’ Ethan clarified.

‘Actually the official term is _de-personalizing_. In this case de-humanizing is considered a non-inclusive term.’ Lindsay stripped out of the rubber gloves she was still wearing and tossed them into the nearby bin.

 

Two months after the revolution, the _androids rights group_ had released their guidelines for inclusive speech. Anyone directly working with androids had been asked to educate themselves, including androids. For Connor it had been as easy as downloading the file. Lindsay on the other hand had spent hours studying the guidelines. Connor now searched his data banks for the file. Even though he had downloaded it he was still able to elect to ignore it. Much like Ethan had, he supposed. Although judging by the other android’s reaction, he hadn’t ignored it on purpose, the words simply chosen carelessly. Or maybe out of habit.

 

Connor snapped out of his thoughts when Ethan stood up. ‘All done,’ he announced. ‘Just stay here for a minute and wait for your systems to recalibrate.’

Ethan went to get another bag of Thirium from the cabinet while Connor let his systems cycle through various scans and calibrations. His fingers itched for the comfort of his coin, still in the pocket of his jacket, which was neatly folded on the chair across the room. It was rare for him to not have his coin on him. Maybe the familiarity of his most efficient calibration routine would ease the strange sense of what he could only describe as discomfort that seemed to cling to him today. It wasn’t like him to get so caught up in his thoughts. The only other time it had happened had been in the aftermath of the revolution, right after he had become deviant. Back then everything had been equally confusing, his artificial brain continuously crowded with processes he couldn’t make sense of. But he had learned to deal with it back then, hadn’t he? So why was it happening again now?

 

Connor only noticed Ethan had returned when the line connected to his elbow jostled. ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ the other android asked.

‘Positive.’

Ethan looked over to Lindsay and whatever he saw seemed to put him at ease.

‘Can I leave you to finish this up by yourselves? I have another patient I was meant to be with ten minutes ago.’

‘Go, I’ve got it. Thanks, Ethan.’

 They both watched him leave.

‘Good thing CyberLife were so adamant I learn everything about your model before making me your handler,’ Lindsay said as she crossed the room.

‘It has been quite convenient at times.’ Connor watched her as she felt through the pockets of his jacket. ‘What are you doing?’

 

She didn’t reply and instead returned with his coin. Then she sat down on the bed as she handed him the sliver of metal. He took it from her wordlessly, the coin easily dancing across his knuckles.

‘You know, I’m never going to learn how to do that,’ Lindsay said after a moment. Connor had tried to teach her before but it had never gotten them anywhere.

‘It’s easy,’ he began as he passed the coin back to Lindsay, ‘you just have to…’ Connor didn’t get any further as the coin slipped through her fingers while he passed it to her. He caught it before it even fell past the edge of the bed. His eyebrows rose as he looked back up at Lindsay.

‘I swear I didn’t do that on purpose. I really am _that dumb_.’

‘Well, you said it, not me.’

‘ _Hey!_ ’ Lindsay huffed as she elbowed him in the side.

‘Your motor skills are abysmal.’

‘You are abysmal.’

 

It took a while for Connor to feel ready to leave the clinic. His systems were slow and he felt… _glitchy_. Which according to Lindsay was not a feeling.

Eventually they did make it back to the car, though Lindsay was still refusing to let him drive. Connor would never admit it out loud but he thought it was probably a good thing. He didn’t seem to be quite able to keep his thoughts together.

 

Lindsay slowly seemed to catch up on his mood. ‘This morning, at the crime scene… what happened?’ There it finally was. Lindsay always waited a while before asking him about anything that could potentially be emotionally difficult. So he could work out what he was feeling for himself first. 

‘Nothing out of the ordinary. The hostage was rescued.’ Connor didn’t know how he felt about the day’s events yet.

There was a moment of silence as Lindsay visibly seemed to be searching for words. 

‘Look,’ she began then, ‘I can’t force you to talk to me. And that’s honestly not what I’m trying to do. But you’ve been acting weird since what happened earlier. A human officer would receive trauma support but that’s not available for you...’ She drifted off and sighed. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I’m worried about you. And I want you to know that you can talk to me if you feel like it.’ 

It was Connor’s turn to search for the right words.

‘The suspect - _Stuart_ \- he said the McMillian’s had held him hostage and tortured him and that he was just trying to get away. I... I wasn’t able to detect if he was telling the truth.’

‘That sounds pretty messed up. Although in his situation I would have made up a story like that too if I thought it’d get me out of there. It’s hard to judge if he was being honest.’ 

Connor nodded in agreement. But that wasn’t all that bothered him. ‘I succeeded in calming him down and I was certain he was about to give up his weapon. But then something changed and his stress level increased drastically. I had to shoot him.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Lindsay said softly. ‘I’m sure you did the best you could.’

 

Connor didn’t know what to say to that. Failure had never been part of his programming and CyberLife had deemed it unacceptable. Ever since he had deviated and ended up with confusing things such as a free will and emotions, other people’s compassion had been a difficult thing to handle. So instead Connor logged into his DPD account and checked if Stuart’s memory drive was extracted and up for review yet. It was. 

 

‘Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?’ 

‘I was just gonna go home.’ 

‘So I can have the car?’ It was Lindsay’s car but she didn’t mind him borrowing it. Usually.

Lindsay frowned over at him. ‘Where are you going?’ 

‘To the station.’ 

‘What for?’ 

‘Stuart’s memory drive is up for review.’ 

 

Connor heard Lindsay exhale 45% louder than she normally did and he noted that her grip on the steering wheel tightened.

‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’ 

‘His memory drive being uploaded for review? May I remind you that he was involved in a crime before his death and in such a situation the protocol is to check the last forty-eight hours of his recordings to gain further insight into what happened.’

Lindsay shook her head. ‘I know that. What I meant was do you think it’s a good idea for you to be reviewing it today?’ 

‘I was assigned to the case when I was dispatched this morning so it’s my job to review the evidence.’ 

 

It was silent for a moment and Connor concluded Lindsay wouldn’t say anything else on the subject.  Then the car turned right when they should have continued to go straight. 

‘You’re going the wrong way.’ 

‘Not if I’m going to the station.’ 

‘It’s not necessary for you to take me.’ 

‘I’m going, too.’ 

Connor wondered what approach was the least likely to make her angry. All he wanted to tell her was that she had barely eaten all day and not slept enough either and that she should go home to rest. But if he were to straight out tell her that, he suspected she wouldn’t appreciate it. Perhaps it would be better to make her realize that her presence at the station wasn’t necessary. 

‘There will be plenty of time for you to analyse the footage next week.’ 

‘No. If you’re going, I’m going. I was assigned to the case too, remember? And out of the two of us I’m the behavioral analyst so it only makes sense for me to at least get an idea of what we’re dealing with before doing a full analysis on Monday.’

 

Connor had to accept that Lindsay had beaten him at his own game. There was no way to argue what she had said without defeating his previous point on why he needed to go today.

‘You said if you were in a similar situation you would lie about having been tortured, too,’ Connor said instead, ‘but what if he wasn’t lying?’

The words surprised even himself. 

Lindsay’s hand moved from her lap to his, fingers easily finding his own without her eyes ever leaving the road. ‘We won’t know until we’ve reviewed his memory data.’ 

Strangely enough, a part of Connor hoped his shot had destroyed the other android’s memory unit. Despite the fact that he had been programmed to shoot without doing so.

 

The way to the precinct felt much longer than it usually was and yet they seemed to arrive there too soon. Connor didn’t quite understand how that was even possible.

 

Usually the station was always a little more quiet on the weekend and today was no exception. It was a good thing, too. Technically there was nothing wrong with Connor being there to look at some evidence. He only wasn’t allowed to be out in the field while he was under investigation. But Captain Fowler still didn’t like seeing him around at those times. It made him a legal liability.

Luckily the man didn’t like coming in on Saturdays and the rest of the station was far too busy with whatever they were doing to notice anything that was going on around them. Getting to the newly set-up review room was almost too easy.

 

It didn’t take long to open Stuart’s memory footage along with his software data.

‘Ready?’ 

Connor nodded and Lindsay took a deep breath before pressing the play button on the control panel. Her nervousness mirrored his own. 

The recording started at 9:41:15 am, Thursday 5th September 2039. Exactly 48 hours before Stuart’s death. Wherever he was, it was dark. Unnaturally dark. 

Then Connor remembered that the TG series was equipped with night-vision. Stuart should have been able to see at at least 35% capacity even in the dark. Unless he was damaged... or his optical unit was covered up. Connor spared a glance at the diagnostics tablet that was running Stuart’s software data. _All systems fully functional._ So there was nothing wrong with his visual receptors. 

 

The next notable thing was the androids loud, heavy breathing. Bizarre for a being that didn’t actually need to breathe.

From somewhere a voice could be heard. It was muffled, coming through a closed door. Connor ran a quick scan on it and his own memory drive delivered a result immediately.

 

 _State representative Arthur Mcmillian_.

 

He paused the footage. 

‘The voice in the background is McMillian,’ he informed Lindsay. 

‘His location tag places Stuart at their house as well. Looks like Patricia really was lying.’ 

‘She might have not known he had already been there. Stuart could have hidden, or left and returned.’ 

‘I guess we’re about to find out,’ Lindsay said when she started the recording back up again.

 

The heavy breathing continued for another 2.36 minutes. Then, curiously, Stuart entered standby mode. The footage automatically skipped ahead but only by fifteen minutes. Stuart fully came back online to a dragging-squeaking sound in the background, like that of a sliding door, hinges in desperate need of oil. 

Footsteps. A click followed by the static flickering noise of old fluorescent lights coming on. Then the rustle of cloth. 

 

Stuart’s surroundings changed from perfect darkness to the blinding white of an intense bright light. The diagnostics tablet showed his visual receptor’s desperate struggle to equalize the brightness and re-gain some sight with no success. There was another rustle of something and then Stuart swallowed audibly. 

‘Hello, TG,’ McMillian’s voice said from somewhere to the androids left.

‘My... My name is Stuart.’

‘You’re just a machine. You don’t have a name.’ 

Stuart stayed silent. There was a noise that sounded like McMillian shifting next to him. A notification opened in Stuart’s field of vision.

 

_External device detected_

_Connecting…_

_Connection stable_

 

‘What are you doing?’ 

‘Remember what we did yesterday? And the day before that?’ 

‘No, please don’t. Please, I’m begging you.’

 

_External access request to sector A1_

_External access denied_

_Override sequence detected_

_External access granted_

 

Stuart’s fear was practically palpable, even for Connor. It only worsened when his skull plates were removed, the android desperately trying to prevent access but losing to an override sequence every time. Then something was connected directly to his main processor. Stuart’s system cycled through several error messages and warnings. Whatever had been connected to him began transmitting data.

It only took 2.5 seconds for Stuart to start screaming. 

 

Connor looked down at the diagnostics tablet, displaying the other android’s software going haywire, processes frantically opening and closing even as overload warnings began to appear in his vision. 

Despite everything, Connor couldn’t make sense of the readings. Analysing the inner workings of androids had never been in his programming. CyberLife hadn’t wanted them to be able to understand themselves. Even now a lot of the information was classified and he wasn’t able to just download it. And while the fact that he was an android himself helped, he had never seen, o _r experienced for that matter,_ anything like this himself.

 

Lindsay on the other hand seemed less surprised. She paused Stuart’s memory recording with one hand while already changing the diagnostics tablet from the software overview to specific data sheets with her other hand. One sheet, Stuart’s sensory reception data, seemed to capture her attention and she stopped for a moment. Then she pulled up another sheet, this time the android’s sensory input data, and seemed to compare the two.

 

‘Look at this,’ Lindsay began slowly, fingers tracing around the reception data. ‘There’s a massive amount of sensory reception. So massive that it was taking up 86% of his processing capacity. That’s like, 3000-and-something processes.’ 

‘3473,’ Connor specified. 

‘Whatever. The point is that it’s a huge amount.’ Her hand moved over to the input data. ‘Then look at this. All this sensory reception but there is next to no input. And what little input data there is… it’s easy to explain. The light in front of him, the chair he’s on... All that stuff. But that’s nowhere near enough to explain his reception data.’ 

‘So whatever McMillian was doing to him caused this?’ 

Lindsay frowned. ‘It must be. I’ve only seen anything like this once before. There’s a program CyberLife used to stress-test new types of processors. It does something quite similar to see how well hardware will perform under extreme circumstances.’ Her hand began to tap the edge of the tablet lightly while she seemed to be searching for the right words. ‘As you know sensory input is different in sentient androids compared to non-sentient ones.’ 

 

Connor nodded. He remembered the difference from before he had become deviant. Previously his sensory reception data had only been that - data. Sounds and sights and the feeling of touch. But there was no evaluation behind it, unless it was something that could potentially be damaging. In short, while he was able to hear music, he didn’t have an opinion on whether he liked it or not. While he was able to feel touch, there was no difference between friendly contact or violence, unless it could have damaged him. He had received a warning then. 

But now all that was different. 

 

‘So far we’re not sure how it works,’ Lindsay continued, ‘but the theory is that with your newly found free will, you basically have also gained the ability to form an opinion. There is data that suggests that the coding of sentient androids evolves as they decide what they like. Essentially it’s like a human teenager discovering their own taste in things. But when you discover what you like, you also find out what you dislike, which means there’s a negative or positive value added to sensory data. And this...’ Lindsay gestured at the tablet, ‘this is basically causing a sensory overload. I don’t know exactly what McMillian was doing to him, but it must have been like hearing, seeing and feeling everything at once. And at that rate, it would be a very painful sensory overload.’ She turned around to look at him. ‘Stuart wasn’t lying when they said they hurt him. This is literally torture.’ 

 

 

Connor should have known. How had he failed to detect that Stuart wasn’t lying, that he wasn’t the one at fault? Not only had he failed his mission - ensuring that both the hostage and the suspect stayed alive - but he had failed his people. It was just like Amanda had said; he was CyberLife’s worst failure. 

‘Hey,’ Lindsay said softly, ‘stop stressing.’ 

‘I’m not stressing.’ 

‘You literally have a mood ring on your face.’ 

‘ _Mood ring?_ ’ His confusion over the term temporarily stopped the raging process in his head. 

‘It’s... _never mind_. The point is that I can tell when you’re freaking out. I know this is tough but it’s not your fault.’ 

Connor nodded, then turned back to the control panel, fingers hovering over the play button. Before he got to activate it Lindsay’s hand pushed his away. 

‘I think we’ve seen enough for today.’

He easily moved his hand past hers back to the button. This time Lindsay’s fingers wrapped around his hand and pulled it away. ‘Connor, I’m serious.’ 

‘You’re right. You’ve seen enough, you should go home.’ 

‘You’re coming with me.’

He nodded while logging back into the system and starting to download the memory data to his own processor, ignoring the warning that popped up. Ever since the new laws passed, android memory data was protected. Only if an android’s death was tied to a crime was it allowed to review the last forty-eight hours saved on their memory drive. Even then the data wasn’t to leave the police server. 

 

‘Connor?’ Lindsay frowned at him. ‘What are you doing?’ 

‘I’m not doing anything.’ He wasn’t sure how Lindsay could tell he was up to something. 

Her head tilted to the side. ‘Wait. Are you downloading the footage? Stop it.’ 

‘I’m not...’

‘ _I’m serious_ , stop it right now. You know that’s illegal.’ 

‘No one is going to find out.’ 

‘I’ve already found out. Stop right now, delete what you’ve downloaded so far or I will call the ethics committee on you.’ 

 

The ethics committee had been started to protect androids rights, specifically when it came to what was considered thought data. Memory drives, processing sequences, personal protocols. If they found out Connor was downloading the memory drive of another android, there would be trouble. 

 

‘You wouldn’t.’ Despite all of his negotiation skills he couldn’t figure out if Lindsay was just bluffing or not. She knew exactly what he looked for when analysing her reactions after all.

‘Continue and you will find out.’ 

He watched her for a moment longer, waiting for her to crack. Instead the resolve on her face hardened a little more. ‘Don’t mess up this investigation before it even starts.’

Connor knew she was right.

‘Fine.’ He removed any trace of the download from his processor. 

 

The system was flawed. Despite all of the new laws and obligations, attempts to include androids and move on from past mistakes, the system was flawed. In fact it was flawed so deeply it was almost illogical. Rules and instructions that continuously contradicted themselves.

 _Connor wasn’t a person_. He wasn’t allowed to carry a gun. Yet sometimes he was given one to defend himself. But if he fired it, he wasn’t allowed to return to work until the incident was investigated. Investigated by a behavioral analyst. An android behavioral analyst. Because androids weren’t people. But behavioral analysts weren’t trained in dealing with feelings. They wrote programs simulating humanity in machines, evaluated their effectiveness by the way androids behaved and humans reacted to them. All based on data and diagnostics, not emotions. But androids weren’t people so they didn’t have feelings. _Except they did._

And when they fired a gun while being affected by feelings... it was trouble. So they needed to be investigated by people who didn’t understand their feelings either. Because there was no data for that, no diagnostic test that showed what had caused any of this. And when they wanted to do research, to be able to provide data and statistics to understand the change in androids, there was no funding. Because the newly founded subdivision of the department of science, android studies, was too busy doing other things. Like sending people to do jobs they weren’t qualified for and investigating incidents they didn’t understand. People like Lindsay, investigating androids like Connor to see if there was a mistake when he fired the gun given to him. Except in his case _specifically not_ Lindsay. Because they were a couple. _Conflict of interest_. Except that legally they weren’t a couple because Connor wasn’t a person.

 

‘What’s wrong?’ Her voice cut through the riot in his head. Lindsay had practically dragged him out of the precinct and forced him into the car, silent as she started the engine and began the drive home. Well, her home, technically. His name wasn’t on the lease.  _Not a person._

 

‘It’s nothing.’ At least nothing he had the ability to vocalize. ‘My actions need to be reviewed but I would hate to miss out on a substantial part of the investigation regarding today’s hostage situation. I was hoping you’d be able to speed the process up a little.’ 

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Lindsay said with a sigh as she pulled into the driveway of the townhouse they called home, nestled between two identical houses. Nothing fancy -  two bedrooms on the second floor, an open floor plan living area on the ground floor. A square patch of lawn in the back that neither one of them knew what to do with. They had ignored it for a while until one day in summer Lindsay had casually mentioned the yard needed mowing. Then she had stopped dead in her tracks and frowned.

_‘How do you go about getting your lawn mowed these days?’_

Connor hadn’t understood the confusion. After all her previous home, a house nearly identical to this one but owned by CyberLife, had featured the same patch of grass. As it turned out Rosie, Lindsay’s android, had been responsible for home maintenance.

 _‘I’ve literally never mowed a lawn in my life,’_ Lindsay had laughed. They had agreed on hiring a maintenance crew because they didn’t own any kind of equipment either.

 

It had been a good plan until Hank had heard about it, immediately fussing about not paying _some fucking android_ _(‘Sorry, kid. Ya know what I mean.’_ ) to mow ‘ _some little piece of crap yard_ ’.

The man himself and his lawn mower had shown up that Saturday to do the job. 

 

 _‘I should tell him that I could just download a maintenance program and do it myself,’_ Connor had told Lindsay as they watched Hank wrestle the gardening equipment from his car. 

 _‘Not yet.’_ Lindsay had seemed far too amused _. ‘This is going to be so good.’_  

It had taken Hank exactly three minutes and forty-one seconds to somehow tear down the fence that separated their yard from their neighbour’s. 

_‘Should I tell him now?’_

_‘Wait a little longer.’_

 

In the end, Hank had somehow managed to repair the fence and mow the lawn. Lindsay had cooked dinner to say thank you. Lasagna.

 _‘You can tell him now,’_ she had said at the dinner table, hiding a smile behind her glass of wine.

Connor hadn’t understood the timing. Why would he tell Hank about his ability to download a home maintenance program at the dinner table, long after the actual activity of maintaining their home was over? 

But he had told him anyway. 

Hank’s usually grey-ish face had turned a concerning shade of red. _‘Son of a...’_

He was cut-off by Lindsay’s nearly hysterical fit of laughter.

 

‘You gonna get out of the car or not?’ 

Connor blinked over at Lindsay then, surprised he had gotten lost in his own head yet again. 

‘It would make no sense to remain in the car.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that. The garage is pretty nice.’ 

For a moment he was confused. The garage had no redeeming features compared to the inside of the house. 

‘You’re joking,’ Connor concluded as he exited the car. 

‘I am.’ 

He knew his social skills were improving, just not as fast as he wanted them to. 

 

Lindsay disappeared into the kitchen and he heard the pantry doors open, followed by the rustle of a bag. 

‘Chips are hardly a balanced meal,’ Connor called after her. 

‘Chips are made from potatoes and these ones are tomato flavoured so that’s practically a salad.’ 

‘I’m not certain how you’ve come to that conclusion but you’re wrong.’ He rounded the corner to see her leaning against the kitchen bench, almost the same way as she had been in the morning.

‘ _Bite me,_ ’ Lindsay said, winking at him. Then she pulled her phone out of her pocket. The rapid tapping of her thumb against the semi-transparent screen indicated that she was texting someone. Connor went to stand behind her, easily able to look over her shoulder and down onto the device. 

 

_To: Eva Parkston_

_3:47 pm_

_You know how you owe me a huge favor?_

 

‘Ever heard of privacy?’ Lindsay mumbled around a mouthful of chips. 

‘This is Eva from your work, yes?’

 

_From: Eva Parkston_

_3:47 pm_

_Uhm no, why?_

 

_To: Eva Parkston_

_3:48 pm_

_Come in tomorrow and do a review for me?_

 

‘It is,’ Lindsay confirmed. ‘I’m hoping I can get her to come in tomorrow to do your review.’ 

 

_From: Eva Parkston_

_3:48 pm_

_Fuck you._

 

Connor frowned at the insult but Lindsay didn’t seem bothered.

 

_To: Eva Parkston_

_3:49 pm_

_I’ll take that as a yes :)_

_From: Eva Parkston_

_3:49 pm_

_I’m not coming in before 10 am though_

_To: Eva Parkston_

_3:49 pm_

_That’s fine. Bet you can’t wait to spend your Sunday at the office with me!_

 

‘This whole interaction makes no sense,’ Connor stated. 

‘Why?’ 

‘I don’t see how _fuck you_ equals agreeing to do something.’ 

Lindsay laughed. ‘Sometimes it just does. Just be glad she’s coming in to do your review.’ 

‘I take it you’re going to work as well?’

‘Yeah. It’s probably best if I start on Stuart’s footage as quickly as possible so the McMillian’s can be brought in for questioning.’ 

 

Connor knew she was right and he couldn’t wait for this whole review process to be over. He had been under investigation before, but it had never made him so nervous. _Only 18 hours and nine minutes left to wait._


	4. Chapter 4

_6.57 am_

_6.58 am_

_6.59 am_

 

Lindsay’s nails tapped the edge of her phone. The screen went dark again and she pressed the lock button to light it up _. Again._ She had been watching time tick by for the last ten minutes. Her alarm was set to go off at 7 am. At some point during the night Connor had come to bed too. They had argued the night before. Well, Lindsay had thrown a tantrum and Connor had said nothing. Lindsay had stormed off and Connor had said nothing. Half an hour later he had brought her a cup of tea. She had patted the space on the bed next to her and he had said down wordlessly. Lindsay had turned on the TV and found some stupid cartoon to watch. Eventually she had fallen asleep, only to wake up a few hours later, feeling even worse than she had before. _6.30 am._ That was how she had ended up here.

_7.00 am_

Her phone began vibrating almost violently. Lindsay turned the alarm off. The pit in her stomach seemed to open up into some bizarre form of abyss.

‘Time to get up, I guess.’

 

Usually she wasn’t on such a strict schedule when she had to work on the weekend. But Connor didn’t like not knowing what time she was going to leave. He had been stressed out enough already and so Lindsay had decided to give him an exact time. It was hard to motivate herself to get out of bed though. Her phone had informed her it was currently only 10 C outside, cold for September. Next to her Connor was warm and always willing to serve as her personal heater. Lindsay sighed and forced her tired body to roll out of bed. She could have sworn she heard her joins creak in protest. Today was the seventh day she would work this week. Only one day off in the last fourteen days. To say she was exhausted was an understatement. Connor had a much easier time getting up, his artificial body not needing things as trivial as rest. Then she padded into the bathroom to get ready. She was amazed when she did things in an almost normal fashion and managed not to accidentally use her toothbrush to brush her hair. When Lindsay was done she blinked at her own reflection. Her makeup did little to hide the bags under her eyes, her hair had already needed a wash _yesterday_ and the way she had forced it into a messy pile at the top of her head again gave her a headache already. But there wasn’t much she could do about it now so she shrugged and went downstairs. If she was going to make it through the day she needed coffee. _A lot of coffee._

To her surprise there was already a cup in the coffee maker and, before she really knew what was happening, Connor was shoving a plate in her face.

‘I’m aware you don’t normally eat breakfast but I assumed you could use the extra energy today.’

Lindsay took a step back to get a better look at the plate in front of her. Two crumpets with strawberry jam on the side.

‘Recently you seem to have taken a liking to these,’ Connor explained. ‘I attempted to replicate the way you prepare them for yourself.’

Lindsay went through weird phases of being obsessed with certain foods. No one usually noticed. ‘Thanks.’

‘You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to. I won’t be upset.’ He was babbling again. Which meant he was as anxious about today as she was. So Lindsay took the plate from him and set it down on the bench. Then she wrapped her arms around him, one hand sliding into his still mussed hair.

‘We’ll be fine.’

‘I know.’ He swallowed audibly. ‘You look nice.’

‘We both know I look like shit but thank you.’ Lindsay untangled herself from him and reached for the plate again. She carried it over to the table and Connor followed her with her mug full of coffee.

‘Thanks for breakfast. I’d probably starve without you.’

‘You have been losing weight recently.’ Of course he had noticed that particular detail.

‘It happens.’ Lindsay shrugged. ‘It’s the stress.’ He nodded, seemingly satisfied with her explanation.

‘When you’re allowed to travel we should go on a holiday. God knows we both need one.’ All she wanted was to leave miserable, cold Detroit for a while. But there were travel restrictions for androids. So much for being free.

‘A holiday?’ Connor perked up. ‘Where do you want to go?’

‘I don’t know,’ Lindsay said, reaching for a butter knife to spread the jam on her crumpets. ‘You haven’t really been anywhere so I think you should pick a place.’

‘California,’ he replied almost immediately. Clearly he had that one lined up.

‘California it is.’ Lindsay took a sip of her coffee. It tasted exactly like it would have if she had made it. Of course it did.

‘We’ll make it your first road trip,’ she said then. ‘Although it’s not like you really do any of the typical road trip things. You know, like eating junk food at shitty run down diners along the road and sleeping at truck stops. You’ll just get to complain about me doing all of those.’

‘It would be much more efficient to go there by plane.’

‘Also much less fun.’

‘Fine. We can visit your family.’

Lindsay frowned down at her breakfast. ‘Is that why you want to go to California?’

‘No, I want to go to California because you’re always talking about it. But it would only make sense to visit your family while we’re there. And it would be rude not to.’

‘Right.’ Lindsay regretted bringing up the traveling thing now. She had always had issues with her family, which was exactly why she had moved across the country in the first place.

‘Did I say something wrong?’

‘No, it’s nothing.’ Lindsay smiled at Connor even as she picked up her now empty plate and cup. There was no point starting this discussion now. Connor was hovering behind her while she put her dirty dishes in the dishwasher. She halfway expected him to lecture her on the most efficient placement of items for maximum cleanliness. Surprisingly, he said nothing and when Lindsay turned around he just looked lost. But Connor caught himself before she could comment on it, his posture straightening immediately. ‘You should go now. It’s 8 o’clock.’

 

There wasn’t much traffic this early on a Sunday morning and the drive to work only took her half as long as it did on weekdays. It also meant she ended up at work at 8.20 am on a Sunday morning. _Good times_. The reception desk in the foyer lacked the usual android receptionists and instead of having to wait for an elevator to take her up to the fifth floor, the doors to the first elevator opened with a ping the moment Lindsay pressed the button. It was so quiet it was almost creepy, the building seeming strangely deserted. The fifth floor was equally quiet and Lindsay didn’t encounter anyone until she passed the small staff kitchen on the way to her office. There were two analysts she didn’t know well waiting around the coffee machine. They nodded at her, exchanging the usual pleasantries. _What are you doing here on a Sunday? Oh, same as you._ _Blah blah._ Lindsay wasn’t in the mood for small talk and she was glad when she made it to her tiny office, pulling the door shut behind her. Her office at CyberLife hadn’t been much bigger, but it had featured a large window facing Detroit’s skyline.

The newly appointed _Department of Android Studies_ had been housed in a eight-floor high rise building. The building itself was centred around a decent sized atrium on the second floor, which was supposed to be recreational. Lindsay found it bizarre to have a garden inside a building. Even worse, instead of her office having a window that faced the _outside world_ , her window faced the atrium instead. Which meant that she could catch a tiny glimpse of the plants and trees while most of her view was taken up by the offices across from her. It was awkward at best. The only solution was to keep her blinds shut, effectively severing every connection to anything outside. It was almost depressing.

Apart from the awkward window situation, her office was home to a low, mostly empty shelf. It wasn’t like she really had anything to store, nearly all her files being electronic. Back at CyberLife, they had all had their diplomas framed and displayed on their walls. Here, Lindsay’s diplomas were shoved into a corner of her shelf where she didn’t have to see them. Two chairs were part of her office’s furniture as well, one for her and one for any potential visitors, separated by a desk. The desk, and the terminal on it, weren’t quite as state of the art as they had been at her previous employer. But they were functional and got the job done. Lindsay had been surprised to find that the main screen was a two-way screen. Semi-transparent, capable of displaying information on both the front and the back.

She started her terminal now, the screen flashing to life and demanding a password. Once Lindsay had logged in she was immediately bombarded with notifications, emails and department updates. But none of them were urgent or even particularly interesting. Instead of worrying about any of them, she connected to the DPD server. The nervousness that had settled in her gut hours ago turned into a sinking feeling when she opened the memory data file. But she couldn’t possibly avoid doing this. Not if she wanted justice for Stuart. The androids software data loaded itself onto the diagnostics part of her terminal. For a few minutes she just sat there, blinking at her screen. She didn’t know why this case made her so uneasy. Maybe it was just the fact that Connor seemed so riled up by it. Lindsay ignored the shaking of her hand when she finally pressed the play button on the footage.

Despite her best efforts, Lindsay only made it through half an hour of footage before she had to pause it. If she had believed what Arthur McMillian was doing to Stuart had been bad, she wasn’t quite sure how to describe Patricia McMillians actions. The woman had come on once her husband was done. _He_ had only ran a program. _She_ had started to swear at Stuart, shrill voice dripping with pure hatred. But it wasn’t just how she spoke, it was what she said. There was the open hatred towards androids. _You took our jobs, now you want to take our rights._ But there were also the things said behind closed doors, whispers behind hands when no androids were listening. _The government should have put them all in recycling centres. They should all be dead. It’s not too late yet, we can still get rid of them._ It was what Patricia told Stuart, over and over again, like some sick sort of mental conditioning. While it had no physical repercussions, his software data proved he was stressed. But Lindsay didn’t have to wait much longer for physical repercussions either. On her screen, Patricia McMillian reached for something just out of Stuart’s field of vision. Sometime in between Arthur’s torture and Patricia’s abuse session, the intensely bright light had been removed from Stuart’s face, finally giving him a chance to see. Although his head still seemed to be fixed to the spot somehow if his lack of movement was anything to go by. When Patricia’s hand returned back into view, it was holding on to a cauterization pen. Something commonly used to fix android’s circulatory systems. In fact Lindsay kept a pen of the exact same model in her bathroom drawer. On the screen, the woman entered something into a tablet and Stuart’s vision was partially taken over by notifications.

 

_External access request to sector C4_

_External access denied_

_Override sequence detected_

_External access granted_

 

The plate that made up the forearm of Stuart’s exoskeleton popped up a little right after his epidermis had retracted from the area. Stuart was babbling again, frantic words without much sense hoping to stop the woman in front of him. His stress levels spiked, software data going crazy as his processor seemed to be overrun by an influx of processes. Lindsay decided to interpret this as fear. On her screen, Patricia McMillian wedged a screwdriver underneath Stuart’s forearm plate and practically ripped it off of his arm. The android’s vision filled up with warnings. But there was nothing he could do when the woman dug her way through a biocomponent to reach the wiring underneath. Stuart’s system was frantically trying to deactivate his pain receptors, but the software still connected to his main processor kept overriding his every attempt. Then Patricia began pulling on the newly exposed wires, the first one snapping easily. Lindsay couldn’t help but to pause the recording. She had seen enough to last her a lifetime. It wasn’t just the torture itself, but also the way Patricia McMillian just watched the android in front of her, the look on her face displaying some sort of detached interest. Like watching an ant struggling to carry food back to its hive. Not exactly how you expected someone to react to another person’s pain. But there was no way around it; Lindsay would have to review the rest of the footage eventually. Only forty seven hours and thirty minutes left to go. But for now she had definitely seen enough. She extracted part of the footage before closing it. Then she opened the emailing system.

 

Her first message was to the _Android Ethics Committee_ , requesting access to Stuart’s memory files starting the day he had stopped appearing at work. Both the McMillian’s had referred to previous days in their torture sessions, which meant there was more messed up stuff yet to be discovered. Lindsay added a distressing content warning to her email as well as the piece of footage she had extracted. Then she sent the email not only to the ethics committee but also the _Android Investigations Unit_ of the DPD. After all it was their investigation.

Almost as an afterthought she sent another request to the committee, asking for clearance to send Stuart’s software data to her departments programming specialists. Maybe they would know more about the program that had been used on the android.

Lindsay’s next email was to the _Android Investigations Unit_ itself, as well as Captain Fowler. Telling the police how to do their job wasn’t something that Lindsay enjoyed. And yet here she was, sending them a recommendation to place the McMillian’s under investigation for... Lindsay paused in the middle of writing her email. Then she reached for her phone and pulled up her conversation with Connor.

 

_‘What’s that thing called again when you capture someone?’_

Official terms for police investigations were not her forte. Connor had explained the terms to her several times already but she still couldn’t remember them.

 

_‘I don’t think I understand your question?’_

Right. Explaining herself wasn’t her strong suit either.

_‘Trying to send a recommendation to place the McMillians under investigation for capturing Stuart but I can’t think of the proper term for it.’_

_‘It’s called forcible confinement.’_

_‘So I say that both Arthur and Patricia McMillian should be placed under investigation for forcible confinement and torture of an android, yes?’_

_‘Correct.'_

Lindsay finished her email, adding the official terms and hoping she didn’t mess up. Then she checked the time _. 9 am_. Another hour until Eva would arrive to do Connor’s review. But instead of getting back to work, Lindsay found herself blankly staring at her screen for a while. It was hard to motivate herself these days. Before all of this had happened, Lindsay had been a damn good behavioural analyst. CyberLife had known it, too. That’s why she had been the one they had trained. Negotiation. Hostage rescue. Deviants. It was the reason they had made her Connor’s handler. She had always known that the people behind CyberLife weren’t _good people_. But it wasn’t until the android revolution that she had realized what kind of people they _really_ were. _The only people worse than the ones who ran this country._

So after the revolution, Lindsay hadn’t wanted to go back to working with androids. But it was all she knew how to do. Then the government had offered her a job. And she hadn’t wanted to take it. Not until she had spoken to some of her former co-workers. It was ironic, really. Previously they had been fascinated by androids because they were what kept them employed. Now that they had lost their fancy jobs because androids were people, everything had changed. Lindsay had seen how much they all _hated_ androids now. And they had all been offered jobs too. So Lindsay had taken the job, had agreed to work for the government. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could do. For the people like Connor, the ones who didn’t understand themselves yet. But also to make up for the damage she had done. There were people that were _dead_ now because of her. _Innocent people_ , people who had just wanted to be free. Nothing she could do now would bring them back. And she didn’t want to rely on excuses like _‘I just did what I was told’_. She should have thought for herself. But she hadn’t. Instead she had believed her superiors when they had told her that androids becoming deviant was just a _software error_.

While Lindsay couldn’t change the past, she could help shape the future. But instead of doing research she was stuck doing police work. Even worse, she was stuck doing police work _with Connor_. Things he was perfectly capable doing by himself. Yet humans were too uncomfortable with an android dealing with investigations alone. Which was ironically exactly the reason CyberLife had assigned him a handler back in the day. Lindsay couldn’t help but to sigh. This was not what she wanted to be thinking about right now.

_9.58 am._

Hopefully Eva would be on time.

 

It was 10.03 am when there was a knock on the door to her office.

‘I would say good morning,’ Eva started, ‘but if it was a _good morning_ , I wouldn’t be here.’ The other woman looked more like she was ready to hit the gym in her sneakers and active wear than going to work. The aesthetic was only thrown off by the giant cup of coffee in her hand.

‘How about a _productive_ morning?’

‘Oh God, that’s even worse. Who wants to be productive on a Sunday?’

‘That’s the spirit,’ Lindsay laughed. As much as Eva pretended to hate her job, she was one of the few good analysts left. Lindsay had known her for years. They had graduated from _CyberTech University_ together, both of them young and naive, sucked into the industry by the promise of a lucrative and secure career.

Now here they both were, working for the government while the company that had trained them no longer existed. Funny how that worked out.

‘You know me, I _love_ my job. Anyway, what’s that review you want me to do?’

Lindsay ignored how her heart hammered in her chest. Being anxious wasn’t going to help anyone. Instead the opened up the review request summary along with the data Connor had submitted. The visual memory footage of the events was mandatory. But of course he had also submitted the rest of his software data. _Nothing to hide._

Then she reversed the screen of her terminal, the data now becoming visible to Eva.

‘Review of death of an android...’ she read out loud under her breath. ‘Oh wow, where did you find another RK800?’

Her eyes moved further down the screen, visibly catching on Connor’s name. ‘Wait, is that...’ the woman drifted off, instead drawing an invisible line in the air between the screen and Lindsay.

‘Yeah.’

‘So that’s why you can’t do the review? And here I was thinking you just didn’t _want_ to do it.’

‘No, I literally _can’t_.’

‘You could have just said that. But anyway, I’ll go get started.’

‘Can I come?’ Connor hadn’t been very descriptive in his narrative about what had happened with Stuart and Arthur McMillian. Lindsay felt like she needed to see what had happened so she would be able to understand why this particular case had upset Connor so much. Eva frowned for a moment. ‘You just said it yourself, you can’t do the review.’

‘I know.’ Lindsay resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _Play nice._ ‘I’m not going to do anything, I just want to see the footage.’ For a daunting moment she thought Eva wasn’t going to agree. Then the other woman nodded.

 

The review room wasn’t particularly big, or even fancy. It was set up much like all their offices, a plain desk with a chair on each side and a terminal. The only exception was that the terminal had another separate, large screen attached to the wall. Eva seated herself behind the desk and loaded the necessary data, setting the screen on the desk so it would transmit information to both sides, meaning Lindsay could see Connor’s software data as well.

‘Are you ready?’ Eva asked then.

‘No, but that probably doesn’t make a difference.’

 The footage started with the aggressive alarm of the door as Connor entered the McMillian’s house. Lindsay tried not to grimace. This reminded her of the time Connor had sent her a damn screenshot of his vision. But where that had been uncomfortable and straight out bizarre, this was a hundred times worse. Along with the software data running next to her, it quite literally felt like she was inside his head. Of course she was used to reviewing things like this but as she now found out, it was different when it was someone she was close to. _Much different._

Lindsay glanced at the software data.

 _All systems functional, stress level at 5%. Running processes: 1480_.

His calmness was a good sign. If him shooting Stuart was considered a calm and rational decision based on the other android’s threat level, Connor would be cleared immediately. Although Lindsay wasn’t sure if work was the best environment for him at the moment. But that was an issue to think about later on.

On the screen, Connor began ascending the stairs. His stress levels rose slightly but it was only to be expected considering he didn’t know what he was about to walk into. While Connor’s description of the event had been brief, it had apparently covered most of that had transpired. There was the usual back and forth between him and the suspect, Connor experimenting with several different negotiation techniques to see which one would be most successful. Lindsay could practically feel him relax when Stuart seemed ready to give up his gun.

But then everything changed in a millisecond. Stuart’s stress level skyrocketed as he panicked over the potential chance of being locked up. It made sense now that Lindsay knew what the McMillian’s had done to him. On the screen next to her, Connor’s own stress levels had practically jumped up. His processor was working overtime, backup RAM activating itself to help with his decision making process. It was then that he fired his gun. Lindsay grimaced and hoped that Eva hadn’t noticed the thing with the backup RAM. It would be classified as a stress reaction and Connor would be suspended temporarily. But Lindsay had asked Eva to do the review for a reason and when she looked over at the other woman, she instantly knew she had noticed.

‘That’s a stress reaction,’ she said, echoing Lindsay’s thoughts.

‘Not necessarily,’ Lindsay found herself replying, sounding unconvincing even to her own ears. ‘It could have just been a hardware issue. Or a software instability.’ She couldn’t even look at Eva because she knew she was making excuses. And the other woman knew it, too.

‘You’ve seen the data. There were no issues.’

If Lindsay wanted to keep her credibility and not make it plain obvious she was just trying to defend her boyfriend, this was the time to keep her mouth shut. ‘His backup RAM coming online might have been related to other thought processes though, not necessarily the shooting of his gun.’

_There went her credibility, right out of the stupid window facing the ridiculous atrium. What a great way to improve her day._

 ‘That’s highly unlikely,’ Eva said. ‘You know that I have to classify this as a stress reaction and ask your boyfriend to come in for an interview. I’m sorry.’ Lindsay hated the pity in her voice. Pity was the last thing she needed. It didn’t solve anything. ‘I get it. Can you not send out your report until I’ve gone home and talked to him?’

It wasn’t exactly common procedure but Eva agreed to it anyway. Courtesy of having known each other for a while, Lindsay supposed. She spent the entire way home trying to think of the best way to tell Connor. But it wasn’t that easy. 

This whole thing had been difficult for Connor already, but being suspended would only imply that he had actually done something wrong. Even if Stuart might have killed him if Connor hasn’t shot him. Even if it would have been perfectly normal for a human to be stressed in the same situation. It was downright unfair. But officially they were trying hard to protect androids, to stop them being treated unfairly. It was why any android killings were investigated so thoroughly. It was an effective way to keep the masses quiet and in a state of semi-satisfaction. ‘Android killed in hostage situation’ was a much more scandalous headline than ‘Android temporarily suspended from job’, no matter how unfair it was.

Lindsay sighed as the garage door shut behind her. There was no point dragging this out any longer. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So obviously I didn’t update last week because this chapter was an absolute nightmare to write and I felt like I was writing myself into a corner no matter what I did. But nevertheless, this ended up being 6000 words long??? Idk I hate myself and the next chapter will hopefully be better.
> 
> Also I usually update Friday/Saturday but I’m going on holidays next Friday and won’t be back until Saturday the following week sooooo I’m not sure when there’ll be another chapter but I’m working on it!

Lindsay almost flinched when the front door fell shut behind her. The way it locked automatically had something strangely final to it, as if she was getting trapped inside her own home.  
Connor was in the lounge room, playing some old video game.  
‘You’re back early,’ he said without looking at her. Lindsay watched him clear the level before he put the controller away. ‘Is there something wrong?’  
‘Eva did your review.’  
His LED changed to orange for a moment. ‘I haven’t received a clearance notification yet.’  
‘Yeah, about that...’ Lindsay drifted off. She had wanted to be the one to tell him but now she couldn’t seem to find a way to actually do so. Might as well just come straight out with it. ‘You’re going to have to go in for an interview because Eva determined you suffered from a stress reaction when you shot Stuart.’

  
There. Quick, like a band aid. She finally looked over at Connor from where she still stood next to the lounge chair. Connor’s expression didn’t change and Lindsay was almost sure he was making a conscious decision to try and not react to the news.  
‘I haven’t received a notification that I’ve been suspended either.’  
‘I asked Eva not to file the report until I had talked to you.’  
‘That’s not following the protocol.’  
Lindsay sat down next to him. ‘I wanted you to hear it from me, protocol or not.’  
‘I wasn’t aware that Eva and you were close enough for her to be doing you favours of this extent.’  
‘Is that really what’s important right now?’ She tried and failed to keep the irritation from her voice. It was obvious that Connor was attempting to avoid the issue. Lindsay understood that he found it hard to deal with all this but avoiding it wasn’t going to make it go away. It was almost funny how his newly discovered humanity was the issue and that he tried to deal with it in such a human way.

  
‘I suppose not. So what now? I’m aware that I will be suspended until this is resolved but I’m not certain about the procedure this involves.’  
‘Well, it depends on how your interview goes. If Eva determines there’s nothing wrong with you so to say, and the Ethics committee agrees to let you get back to work, this will all be sorted by the end of next week. Although considering what we knew about the circumstances of Stuart’s death now, it might depend on how the investigation goes. I think the committee might want you to stay away from this particular case.’  
‘It would only make sense. After all I killed both the victim and the suspect.’

  
Lindsay tried not to grimace at his use of the word kill. Of course she knew that was what he had done and she was also aware that it hadn’t been the first time he had killed someone. But put like that it somehow sounded like what Connor had done had been the wrong thing. Or maybe it was just her overly human association with the word.

  
‘I spoke to Captain Fowler earlier,’ he continued then, ‘to ensure he was aware how important it was to detain both Arthur and Patricia McMillian. He said he had to wait for your report but considering you sent it hours ago, I wonder if the McMillians have been brought in by now.’  
Lindsay shrugged. ‘It’s not like they’re going to tell you now that you’re suspended and I can’t check either, so... I guess we’ll find out eventually.’  
‘That’s not quite right. There is one person who is part of the unit and hasn’t been suspended. Do you think the Lieutenant is busy at the moment?’  
‘Okay first of all; that’s a terrible idea. Hank is going to be absolutely livid when he hears you’ve been suspended. And also he’s at that stupid seminar out of town, I guess he could be up to just about anything right now.’ The DPD had sent their oldest, most experienced officer of the Android Investigations Unit to a seminar on dealing with… well, androids. Two weeks of learning about hardware, software and everything in between. He had efficiently voiced how much he disliked the idea using what even Lindsay could only describe as very colourful language.  
‘There’s a very high chance he will find out about my suspension the moment the information is uploaded to the system. He does have access to it after all.’  
‘Tell me the last time you saw him actually check the system for anything.’

  
Connor frowned, visibly trying to recall the situation. ‘Fair point,’ he said eventually when he couldn’t think of one. ‘But I still believe it’s worth contacting him.’  
Lindsay nodded. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’  
She was never quite sure of her and Lieutenant Anderson even liked each other. Either way, they more or less stuck together for Connor’s sake. But that still didn’t mean she needed to be around for that particular phone call. She could practically hear the man swear already, complaining he didn’t want to be dragged into this mess. He sure had chosen a good week to be out of town.  
So while Connor was busy, Lindsay made herself another cup of coffee and took it to their shared office upstairs. At least that way she could avoid any further lecturing about her daily caffeine consumption. Maybe.

 

It took a while but eventually Connor appeared, lingering by the door. He had a weird habit of just hovering when he didn’t know what to say or do. Lindsay had decided it was best to just leave him be.  
‘There’s a problem,’ he said eventually and Lindsay looked up from the report she had been scrolling through.  
‘What is it?’  
‘Arthur and Patricia McMillian were supposed to be brought in for questioning this morning, after you sent your report.’  
‘And?’ It seemed terribly out of character that Connor didn’t just come out with it. Usually he had no issue blurting out the first thing that came to his mind.  
‘They’re gone.’  
Lindsay blinked. ‘What do you mean, gone? It’s not like they just disappeared into thin air.’  
‘No, but it looks as though they may have fled to Canada.’

  
Canada. The thin air thing seemed like the better option. American relations with Canada hadn’t exactly been great since the android revolution, especially since androids were still banned there. Canadian officials had been cracking down on illegal android immigrants as well. It was a constant source of conflict between the two countries. Tracking someone down for android-related crimes was practically impossible.  
‘This sucks,’ Lindsay said eventually. It didn’t even begin to explain how she felt about the situation, but it was the only thing she could think of.  
‘I should have done something right away.’  
‘Like what?’  
‘I don’t know,’ Connor admitted quietly.  
‘It’s not your fault,’ Lindsay said then, even though she was sure that Connor knew it wasn’t. But he hated failing his mission. It was still part of his programming, deviancy or not. Like an unwanted parting gift from CyberLife. Lindsay wished that the company that no longer even existed didn’t still hold so much power over both their lives. But not a single day passed that Lindsay didn’t think about it, although she never quite knew how to bring it up. After all it had been her choice to work for them.

  
‘So what now?’ she asked eventually.  
‘We wait, I suppose. There isn’t anything I can do while I’m suspended.’  
‘Maybe we should focus on sorting out your suspension first. Then you can go back to doing what you do best and make sure they get what they deserve.’ Lindsay herself wasn’t quite convinced that she was as optimistic as she sounded but being negative wasn’t going to help the situation either.  
Instead, she prepared Connor for his interview the best she could. More for her peace of mind than anything else. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

 

But there was only so much to talk about and Lindsay finally found herself with some well-deserved down time, curled up on the couch with her tablet, ready to reply to a lengthy Email an old friend had sent her a while ago. ‘A while ago’ turned out to have been three weeks. Lindsay didn’t even try to make up any excuses for her extremely slow reply. Instead she just called herself a horrible friend and apologized. Connor was sitting at the other end of the lounge chair, a book balanced on his lap. He had finished Animal Farm the night before and had moved on to The Bell Jar. Out of all the classics he could have read, he had chosen what was probably the most depressing one. Of course.  
Lindsay was just typing some solid life advice for her friend into her tablet when her attention was drawn away from the screen. Connor’s hand was twitching on the side of his book. It was unusual to say the least but Lindsay shrugged after a moment and went back to her Email. It didn’t take long for Connor’s hand to twitch again, causing him to drop the book this time.

 

‘What the hell are you doing?’  
‘I’m not doing anything,’ Connor said as he bent to retrieve the old paperback, but he didn’t sound convinced himself. This time he rested the book in his lap as he flicked through the pages to find where he had left off. He had just settled back in when his hand twitched a third time, the book flipping shut again. Lindsay watched, brows raised. Then she set her tablet aside.  
‘Wanna tell me what’s going on?’  
‘It’s nothing, really. Just an issue with some of my software.’  
‘So basically you have a bug?’ Lindsay bit back a stupid grin at the admission. Connor always liked to pretend his systems were without fault.  
‘That’s not what I said. It’s just a small software malfunction that occurs occasionally if my sensors aren’t calibrated completely.’  
‘Sure sounds like a bug to me.’ This time Lindsay gave up the fight and let the stupid happy grin spread across her face. Finally Connor seemed to catch up on her amusement.  
‘I prefer to think of it as a unique programming feature,’ he said drily.  
‘It’s a bug.’ Then Lindsay paused. ‘That’s your new nickname. Bug.’  
‘I will not answer to that name.’  
‘Why not? Does it bug you?’  
‘According to my calculations your joke is not funny,’ he said even as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. Lindsay giggled and stretched her leg across the couch, socked toes bumping into Connor’s knee. In turn he grabbed her ankle and started tickling her. For a few minutes they both forgot about their worries, Lindsay screeching and begging Connor to just stop tickling her, even as he completely ignored her requests.

 

They spent the rest of the day watching TV, carefully avoiding the issues looming over their heads. Lindsay felt a little like she was suffocating under the weight of it all, but there was nothing left to say about it. Sometimes it was just easier not to talk. Apparently Lindsay had fallen asleep at some point because next thing she knew, it was light again and she was still curled up on the couch, now swaddled in a fluffy blanket that was usually on her bed. She blinked a few times to try and clear her vision before she looked around. Connor was still sitting on the other end of the couch, although he looked a little squished with Lindsay taking up most of the space.  
‘Why didn’t you wake me and tell me to go to bed?’  
‘You looked very comfortable.’  
Lindsay sat up, yawning. Then she reached for her phone. 7.32 am. Connor’s interview was scheduled for 9 am. Just enough time to shower and load up on caffeine.

 

But time went by way too fast and she found herself pulling up in front of the Department sooner than she wanted to.  
Lindsay parked in her usual spot and turned the car off. As much as she didn’t want to go, she also didn’t want Connor to notice just how nervous she really was. Although she knew he could read her heart rate and all of her body’s other physical symptoms of her anxiety, she liked to pretend that if she acted confident it would still give him a more or less false sense of security. Fake it till you make it. Or something.  
The interview room was almost crowded. Eva was there, seemingly busy setting up a diagnostics screen. Their supervisor Gabriela was there as well, which was as unusual considering this was something they did on a daily basis. Routine. There was a third person as well. An android, Lindsay was sure. The unnaturally stiff way he held himself gave him away. But most importantly, Lindsay had never seen him before. He stepped out of the interview room when he noticed them approach, as if he didn’t want them to reach everyone else first.

  
‘Connor,’ he said then, completely ignoring Lindsay’s existence, ‘my name is Marley. I’m from the Android workers’ Union. I’d like to speak with you.’ Connor nodded while Lindsay was still just blinking at the android in surprise. There weren’t enough union representatives around for them to show up at every unimportant thing. Especially not overnight. But then Marley gestured towards the interview room while expectantly looking at her. ‘Please,’ he said then, voice almost strained. Right. Privacy. She stepped into the interview room, joining Gabriela and Eva even as Marley reached to shut the door behind her. Lindsay glanced back at Connor, who looked about as confused as she felt. He shrugged at her before the door closed.  
Gabriela was busy pointing out some software issue on the tablet to Eva so neither one of them paid any attention to Lindsay, which she was grateful for. She needed a minute to process the surprise and confusion. Of course there was nothing wrong with Connor wanting a representative. His people had fought hard for what few rights they had so they might as well use them to their full extent. But Lindsay had hoped that if Connor felt like he might be treated unfairly, he would tell her. She always tried hard to be inclusive and understanding, but maybe she wasn’t doing as good a job as she thought she did. There wasn’t any more time to dwell on any of her potential short comings when the door opened behind her. Marley went to speak to Lindsay’s supervisor as Connor moved to stand behind her.

  
‘You seem stressed,’ he commented, voice low so only she would be able to hear him.  
‘Are you surprised?’ The words came out a little sharper than Lindsay had intended. Connor didn’t have a chance to reply when Gabriela addressed Lindsay instead. ‘Miss Carter,’ she began, ‘would you please get the observation room ready?’  
Lindsay tried not to look too surprised at the formalities as she nodded. Gabriela never called her Miss Carter. The presence of the union representative must have thrown her off. There wasn’t much to do in the observation room. Lindsay switched on the screen underneath the one way mirror, connecting it to the data stream from the diagnostics tablet in the interview room. She had only just finished when Gabriela entered and began checking the screen. As if there was any way Lindsay would have messed up a task that simple.

  
‘I can’t believe the fucking union is here.’  
‘What’s wrong with that?’ Lindsay looked over at her supervisor almost in surprise. While she didn’t like the woman, she had been fairly reasonable to work with so far.  
‘Someone called them in. They won’t say who but apparently someone very high up in the android community.’ Lindsay didn’t like the way she said it. Android community. It had sounded more like she was talking about a bunch of puppy-murdering psychopaths than anything else.  
‘So?’  
The woman exhaled noisily before finally turning her head to look at Lindsay. But the expression of only thinly veiled anger made Lindsay wish she had continued to look away. ‘They’re going to fucking nit-pick on everything we’ve done so far. This whole case is going to be a huge pain. You have no idea how much this is going to cost us. In both time and money.’  
‘They just want things to be done the right way. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with that.’  
Gabriela crossed her arms in front of her chest. ‘Of course you would say that.’  
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Lindsay’s tone probably wasn’t quite appropriate for speaking to her superior but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. But before the woman had a chance to answer, the union representative entered the observation room, closely followed by Connor and Eva. Even with them in the room, the tension between Gabriela and Lindsay didn’t ease and it was awkwardly quiet. Even worse, the small room was crowded. It had only been designed for two, maybe three people. Not five. Lindsay finally looked away from her superior and instead noticed that Marley was glaring at her as well.

  
‘This is supposed to be confidential. I understand a supervisor attending, but there is no reason for this random analyst to be here.’ The android gestured at her. Random analyst. Charming. ‘We request for her to be removed, she has no business being here.’  
Gabriela watched the union representative for a moment, then she stepped out of the way and gestured from Lindsay to the door. There was an awkward moment in which Lindsay asked herself if this was really happening.  
‘Actually,’ Connor spoke up eventually, ‘I would like Miss Carter to remain here.’  
Despite his stoic, almost stiff, features, the representative still managed to look somewhat surprised. ‘Is there a reason for that? I assume you know that privacy is within your rights and...’  
‘I want her here for personal reasons,’ Connor ground out. ‘Although that really shouldn’t be of any concern to you.’  
‘Of course.’ The other android didn’t look pleased at all. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Lindsay would have almost found the exchange funny. She gave Connor what she hoped was an encouraging smile before Eva guided him out of the room. The door shut behind them and Lindsay turned back to the observation window. There was a set of formalities they had to go through before the interview. Do you agree to your software data being retained for further analyzation? Yes. Are you aware that this interview is being observed? Yes. Do you believe you have been adequately informed of your rights and privileges prior to this interview? Yes.

 

The line of questions seemed never-ending. All designed to protect android’s rights. At least that was the official explanation. In reality the sheer endless questions helped protect the department from being accused of violating any privacy rights. Just another way for the government to try and avoid conflict. Lindsay blinked and re-focused on the interview. Eva was doing a good job, even though at this point Lindsay was wondering if she should wish for Eva to mess up. With the union representative here, any mistakes made by the department would only help get Connor off the hook. But he didn’t need that. Right?

 

‘Are you aware of the reason why you were called here for this interview today?’ If it had been Lindsay in there, she would have rolled her eyes at the stupid question. But if the question annoyed Connor, he didn’t let it show.  
‘Yes. I was involved in the resolution of a hostage situation on Saturday, where I shot and irreparably damaged an android.’ Irreparably damaged. Out of the two of them it was Connor who needed to work on political correctness.  
‘That’s correct. How have you been feeling since this incident occurred?’  
There was no right way to answer this. If he said the incident weighed on his mind, it would be used against him. If he said it didn’t… well, it would be used against him as well.

 

The question set the tone for the rest of the interview. It was designed to be potentially incriminating no matter what was being said. It was easier to let one android take the fall than dealing with a whole uprising again because the killing of an android wasn’t being treated fairly. Officially the system was supposed to be fair and Lindsay had believed that despite the flaws in everything else, at least the review and interview process was just. Only now she realised that it was wasn’t. Anything Connor said could be twisted and used against him. It had always been hard to see before because she had been the one asking the questions, doing what she was told. Clearly she hadn’t learned as much from the past as she hoped she had.

 

While time had seemed to fly by earlier in the day, now it was crawling by agonisingly slowly. The interview seemed to be going on forever and Lindsay had to resist the urge to check the time. Marley was watching her so closely that she felt like his eyes were on her more than on the actual interview. She just wasn’t sure why. What she did know was that it made her so uncomfortable she didn’t want to move at all, even when her hips began to ache, begging her to shift her weight a little.

 

After what felt like an eternity, the interview was finally over and Lindsay rushed out of the observation room, waiting for Connor in the hallway. It took a considerable amount of time for both Eva and Connor to finally appear. When Eva stepped out of the interview room she tried to smile at Lindsay, but the expression was more of a grimace. Still Lindsay tried to return the gesture, although she was sure that hers wasn’t much better. Then Eva disappeared down the hallway, into the observation room and Lindsay tried a little harder to muster a convincing smile to make Connor feel better.  
‘That wasn’t so bad.’  
‘Perhaps not, but it certainly wasn’t good either.’ In truth it had been terrible and they both knew it. Lindsay didn’t understand how things had spiralled out of control so fast. Three days ago everything had been fine.

  
‘You didn’t tell me you called a union representative. How did you get him here so fast?’ Lindsay tried to keep her voice neutral. It was his right to ask for someone to come and represent him, one of his own people. She had just hoped he would tell her.  
‘I didn’t. He said he had been informed I might need some... help.’  
‘Well, friends in high places and all that, I guess.’ Although Lindsay found it alarming that word had travelled so fast. This whole thing was supposed to be confidential and she couldn’t exactly imagine anyone at the station or the department with enough power to get the android union here overnight care enough.  
‘I suppose. He asked me if I believed I had been treated fairly by the department so far.’  
‘Is he looking for a way to prove that your review process hasn’t been done properly to get you off the hook?’  
‘I believe so.’ Connor paused for a moment. ‘I didn’t tell him about Eva letting you be the one to tell me about my interview.’  
‘Thank you.’ It could have potentially spelled trouble and Lindsay would have felt bad if Eva had to suffer the consequences of doing Lindsay a favour. Their conversation was interrupted when Marley appeared, stopping next to them. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at Lindsay, but if Connor’s LED was anything to go by, an exchange of information was still happening. The orange spinning was normal. The brief flicker of red wasn’t. It didn’t take long for the representative to live and Lindsay waited for him to disappear around the corner at the end of the hallway.  
‘You don’t like him,’ she remarked as she turned back to Connor.  
‘What makes you say that?’  
Lindsay tapped her index finger against her right temple. Connor mirrored the action, except his fingers rubbed at his temple almost self-consciously. They had discussed his LED too many times to count. He didn’t want to remove it, but he also felt self-conscious about keeping it. Nearly everybody else had removed theirs. Connor had tried, once. The attempt had only lasted 22 hours. ‘He was rude to you,’ Connor said then.  
‘Who cares? He’s here to help you, not befriend me.’  
‘I suppose I’m going to need all the help I can get.’ Lindsay wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. After all he was right. This wasn’t going well and it didn’t look like Connor would be allowed to return to work any time soon. She was just about to suggest they go home when her superior finally left the observation room as well.

  
‘Miss Carter,’ the woman began, that horrible tone to her voice again,’ I believe you have work to do.’  
‘Actually I was hoping I could take today off since I worked both Saturday and Sunday.’  
‘Are Mondays your regularly scheduled days off?’  
‘No?’ Lindsay asked back, sure that her supervisor knew her schedule. ‘Saturdays and Sundays are.’  
‘Well, unfortunately for you today is neither one of those days so I expect to see you in your office in five minutes.’ Gabriela didn’t wait for a reply, instead spinning on her heels and making her way down the corridor towards her own office. For a moment Lindsay felt like calling after her just to tell her to fuck off. There were other jobs out there, right?  
For once Connor seemed to sense her mood.  
‘Go. Before you get into any more trouble.’  
‘This is a fucking joke and you know it.’ It was hard to keep her voice down when she just felt like screaming. But there was no point swearing at someone who couldn’t change her situation. She sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I just wanted to go back home with you.’  
‘It’s fine. I’ll see you tonight.’  
‘Take the car with you then come pick me up later? I’ll try to get out of here early.’

 

But she didn’t get out early. In fact, she got out late. The next few days passed quickly, almost in a blur. Lindsay was removed from the case. Conflict of interest. It was equal parts frustrating and relieving. With Connor still suspended, it wasn’t like there really was any interest to be conflicted about. But at least Lindsay no longer had to watch Stuart be tortured. At home, Connor was constantly hovering. It was painfully obvious that he didn’t know what to do with himself and all the free time he suddenly had.

 

Connor stopped the car in the loading zone in front of the building, just like he had for the last two days.  
‘Are you going to the gym this afternoon?’  
‘Trying to tell me something?’ Lindsay said, winking, hoping to finally lighten the mood a little.  
‘You go to the gym most Thursdays,’ Connor replied somberly, clearly not in the mood for jokes.  
‘I was thinking about it but I don’t want to leave you alone for something as unimportant as the gym.’ It was true. But Lindsay also hated going so it wasn’t like her missing out that week was a loss of any kind.  
‘It’s fine. I think you would benefit from going.’ Lindsay scoffed at him. ‘Benefit? Didn’t you complain about me losing weight the other day?’ Her voice was coloured with mock annoyance.  
‘I meant that your mood would benefit from going. Not... the rest of you,’ Connor clarified, catching up on her joke and finally lightening up a little.  
‘Fine, I’ll go.’ She gathered her things, fingers already searching for her ID in the front pocket of her bag.  
‘See you tonight, yeah?’ Then she leant over the gear stick to press a quick kiss on his cheek. ‘Don’t get too bored without me.’  
‘I’ll try not to.’  
Lindsay got out of the car and was just about to slam the door shut when Connor called her name.  
‘What is it?’ For a moment he looked like he was going to say something but then he seemed to change his mind. Instead he shook his head.  
‘Nothing. See you tonight.’ Lindsay couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was wrong but still closed the door and then watched her car drive off. Time to get to work.

 

In the foyer, Lindsay greeted Annika, the receptionist on duty today. The android waved back at her as Lindsay waited for the elevator. Eventually Lindsay finally made it to her office and settled in for a boring day of reading reports. It still bothered her that she had been removed from the McMillian case. Of course Eva was capable of handling it but still.

 

Time passed surprisingly fast and Lindsay was impressed with herself for the amount of work she was getting done. That was until the departments email program automatically logged her out of her account. When Lindsay tried to log back in, nothing happened. She frowned at the screen for a minute. Then someone knocked on her door and the analyst from the office next door popped his head in.  
‘Did you get logged out?’  
‘Uhm... yes, actually.’  
‘Must be the system.’  
‘Oh, great. And I was actually getting stuff done today.’ She heard the analyst laugh as he went back to his own office. With the system down, there wasn’t much for Lindsay to do. At first she waited around for a little while, using her phone to catch up on anything she might have missed while working. When the system still wasn’t working twenty minutes later Lindsay decided to leave. She could go to the gym and still be back home at her normal time.

 

The gym was boring, as always. Lindsay spent half an hour on the treadmill, which she hated, before deciding she had had enough for one day. Besides, she was well aware that the concept was ridiculous. Go to a place that charges you to literally run in place. Inside a building. When she could just run outside for free. But if there was one thing she hated even more than running inside, it was running outside. The only reason why Lindsay went to the gym in the first place was peer pressure. Everybody seemed to work out to stay healthy, or at least pretend they were, so Lindsay had always felt bad for doing nothing. So she got a gym membership. And because the membership was expensive, she felt obliged to actually use it. The only upside to her weekly torture session was the fact that she got to use it as an excuse to treat herself after. Usually with copious amounts of chocolate. Or pizza. Or both.

 

Lindsay was still daydreaming about food when she was waiting for the bus that would take her home. While she hated public transport, it was cheaper than taking a taxi. She had considered texting Connor to ask him to pick her up but she didn’t want to be a pain. On second thought, it was weird that he hadn’t offered to pick her up from the gym when he had asked her about it in the morning. Maybe he had plans. Lindsay didn’t want to ask, just in case he had previously told her and she just couldn’t remember. It was hard to use ‘you didn’t tell me that’ as an excuse on someone with perfect memory.

 

The bus ride home was uneventful and Lindsay was glad when her stop came into view. Her legs were sore from running. Maybe she really did need to take her workout sessions a little more seriously to get into better shape. One day.

  
When Lindsay finally made it home, Lindsay frowned when Connor didn’t appear within thirty seconds of her arriving home. It had been the routine these last few days. But today the house was quiet.  
‘Connor?’ she called out as she dropped her things on the kitchen bench. There was no answer so Lindsay headed upstairs. No dorky android boyfriend anywhere. He hadn’t told her he was going anywhere. Not like he had to, of course. But he usually did. Lindsay was starting to wonder if she was somehow missing something really obvious so she went back downstairs and opened the door to the garage. No car. She shrugged and shut the door again. Her first notion was to text Connor and ask where he was. But she didn’t want to be controlling. So instead she grabbed a drink and some food. After all she had worked out somewhat hard. Then Lindsay settled in to watch some trashy reality TV show. Half an hour later Connor still hadn’t appeared and curiosity finally got the better of her. Just a quick text wouldn’t hurt, right?

  
‘What are you up to?’

  
Usually he was fast to reply so Lindsay tried not to worry when fifteen minutes passed without an answer. People got busy sometimes, no big deal. Maybe he was on his way home so just didn’t bother replying. Instead of waiting around, worrying, Lindsay went for a shower. Still nothing.  
Oh well. She still had plenty of work to do and reports to read. But time seemed to pass slowly and Lindsay couldn’t focus. Which might have had something to do with her checking her phone every two minutes, just in case she had somehow missed a text from Connor. It wasn’t like him not to reply to her. Another half hour passed until Lindsay stopped attempting to concentrate on the report in front of her and instead took to straight out staring at her phone, willing the display to light up with a message.

  
When it finally did, Lindsay jumped, almost falling off her chair. Geez. It wasn’t even a text message. Just some stupid social media notification that she didn’t care about.  
‘This is ridiculous,’ Lindsay muttered to herself in frustration and picked up her phone. She was too old to play games.

  
‘When are you coming home?’

 

Connor had never not replied to her messages before. Maybe he was glitching again, another bug, and he hadn’t received her first message. Another twenty minutes passed. Still nothing. Lindsay picked up her phone and finally rang Connor. There was no answer, which she didn’t even find surprising at this point. Her concern was quickly changing to annoyance.  


’Fine. Don’t talk to me then.’

  
She couldn’t force him to keep in touch with her after all and she refused to think about something being wrong. Connor knew how to defend himself after all. So instead of obsessing over her idiotic boyfriend, Lindsay decided to start making dinner. Her pot of pasta was just starting to boil over when her phone vibrated on the counter. It was just like Connor to finally decide to message her in the most inconvenient of moments. Now he’d have to wait. The boiling situation was quickly fixed and Lindsay even managed not to burn herself. When she was sure the pot wouldn’t boil over again the moment she turned her back, Lindsay finally retrieved her phone.

 

Transport Department Canada

Your vehicle with the registration XKJ 5741 has been charged for the usage of 407ETR between Toronto and Oshawa. A charge of $13.21 will be automatically deducted from the account linked to your registration details. For further information visit https://www.407etr.com/en/payments/billing/payment-options.html

 

Lindsay blinked down at her phone in confusion. Then she read the message again. Some weird sort of system glitch, she decided. Her car wasn’t in Canada. It was with Connor, wherever he had disappeared to. But how weird that this had happened the same week that two persons of interest from a case they had been involved in were suspected to have fled to Canada.

  
Oh.

Oh no.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy oh boy am i behind on this.  
> instead of actually working on this i've been writing something else to cope with some stuff.  
> then i panicked and wrote this in like two days ahaha

‘What do I do? _What do I do?_ ’ Lindsay whispered to herself, panic making it impossible to think. The phone in her hands suddenly seemed to weigh a hundred kilos. Despite her brain’s current inability to think, her fingers remembered how to unlock the device. Muscle memory.

_‘Please tell me you’re not in Canada.’_

It didn’t seem like enough.

_‘What the fuck were you thinking?’_

Too much.

_‘You ran off to another country with my car, the least you could do is reply to me.’_

No answer. Still. Lindsay took a deep breath.

Panicking wasn’t going to solve anything. No, she’d have to stay calm, think of the best course of action and...  She started sobbing hysterically, tears finally clouding her vision. Behind her, the pot of pasta was boiling over again, water hitting the ceramic cooktop with a loud hiss. But Lindsay couldn’t bring herself to do anything about it, couldn’t even bring herself to move at all. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Connor wasn’t even supposed to be allowed into Canada. He was going to go to jail. And it was all her fault. She should have noticed he was up to something, should have noticed he was struggling that much. But she hadn’t. Was that what he had wanted to say in the car, when he was dropping her off at work? Why had she even gone to work? She should have stayed home. _Fuck that stupid job._ She hated it anyway. Not like she could ever make a difference if she was too stupid to even notice there was something wrong with her own boyfriend. She had even gone to the gym. 

 _No. Stop_. This wasn’t helping. Panicking wasn’t helping. She needed to stop and think. Despite her shakiness, Lindsay managed to calm her breathing a little. Then her trembling fingers rubbed at the tears on her face. Once her vision had cleared a little, Lindsay finally turned to switch the cooktop off and unceremoniously dumped the pot of now over-cooked pasta in the sink. She blinked down at the doughy bits swimming in what little water hadn’t escaped from the edge of the pot onto the cooktop.

No. Pasta didn’t matter right now.

But what could she really do? It wasn’t like she could call the police to ask them to look for her boyfriend, who had illegally crossed the border into Canada. The only thing that would happen was that the Canadian police would arrest him. If they could even find him. For all his dorky behaviours and his awkwardness, Connor still possessed a large amount of military training programming. Back in the day when CyberLife had briefed Lindsay about the new RK model, they had gone through the list of military skills given to the androids. Her head had spun from all the unfamiliar words. Connor was capable of things Lindsay wasn’t sure she even wanted to imagine. He would probably be fine in Canada, whatever he was trying to achieve. _Probably._ But Lindsay knew that just sitting around and waiting was going to drive her insane. Then she had an idea. 

Before Lindsay even had the chance to make up her mind if it was a _good idea_ , or even a _reasonable_ one, her feet were already carrying her up the stairs. Her passport was easily located in the top drawer of her desk. Then she went into the bedroom and tossed a couple of clothes into a bag. Lindsay paused at the top of the stairs and thought for a moment. She dropped her bag on the ground and went back into the office.

The built-in gun safe unlocked with a beep when she entered the code. A second later her phone vibrated, security system alerting her that the safe had been accessed. Lindsay ignored the notification and focused taking her gun out of its case. Then she grabbed a box of ammunition as well. It was probably a terrible idea to try and cross the border while carrying a gun. But this _whole thing_ was most likely a really bad idea. At this point Lindsay couldn’t find it in herself to care anymore.

She stuffed the gun and ammunition into her bag, hiding both in between her clothes. Later she would need to find a better hiding spot to cross the border. But first she had other things to do.

 

There was a car hire only five minutes down the road. The android behind the counter frowned at Lindsay as she walked in. At first, Lindsay couldn’t work out why. Then she realized she had been crying her eyes out 20 minutes ago and probably still looked the part.

‘How can I help you tonight?’ Up close, Lindsay could see that the android’s name tag read _Belinda_.

‘I was hoping to hire a car.’ Yeah. _Obviously._ That was why she had gone to a _car hire_.

‘Certainly. Did you need anything specific?’

She had not thought this through at all.

‘Just… a medium sized car. Oh, and I need to leave the country in it.’

‘Alright, do you have any idea when you will be returning?’

‘No, not yet.’ Because that didn’t sound shady at all.

‘I can offer you this vehicle,’ Belinda said, turning her computer screen around so Lindsay could see the car, ‘it doesn’t have any bookings for the next two weeks. Do you think that will be sufficient?’

The car had four wheels and was within her license limits. That was all she really needed.

‘Yeah, I guess so.’

The android checked Lindsay’s license before typing something into her computer. Lindsay had to stop herself from tapping her nails against the edge of her phone. Instead, she traced the outline of the lock button in a continuous motion. 

 

‘Spontaneous holiday?’ the android asked suddenly.

‘No, unfortunately not,’ Lindsay said slowly to gain some time to think of a reasonable answer. ‘Family emergency.’

It was a good excuse and stopped Belinda from asking any further questions. Eventually the android held a tablet displaying a form and a pen out to Lindsay. She signed the form without reading it. Somewhere behind the counter, a printer sputtered to life.

‘Well, you’re all set to go.’ Belinda handed Lindsay a key card. ‘Your vehicle is in the parking lot, left side at the end of the row.’ Then she also passed her the freshly printed form she had signed. ‘This is your copy of the hire details. Now we just need to arrange payment. The car will be $85 a day.’ 

Lindsay tried not to grimace. She was going to be _so broke_. 

The android held out the payment processing unit and Lindsay tapped her phone against it until the machine beeped. 

‘All done. Enjoy your trip.’ 

Lindsay mumbled something that was supposed to be _thank you_ and went to find the stupid car. 

 

It was a standard issue grey self-driving vehicle. Perfectly average. Which was good. After all Lindsay didn’t exactly want to stand out. At least she knew that much. She had no idea what she was actually trying to achieve.

 

Sitting in the self-driving car was boring. It made Lindsay long for her own car. The old stick-shift was almost as old as her and there was plenty to do when driving it. After a while, Lindsay redirected the car to go down an almost deserted side-road and stopped it in a dark spot. Then she hid her gun where she hoped no border force officer would find it. At least not during a routine inspection. There was one good thing about growing up around guns. Lindsay had picked up some admittedly questionable knowledge and she was a good shot. Although she wasn’t sure what she expected to happen that would require her using her gun. 

 

As Lindsay neared the border, she was starting to wonder what she was doing at all. This didn’t even make any sense. She didn’t even know where she was going. But the rational part of her brain had apparently switched off. All she needed was someone who wouldn’t be as driven by panic as she was. Usually she had Connor. 

Then Lindsay had her second big idea of the night. She reached for her phone and opened her messages. 

 

_‘This is going to sound insane but I need you to drive home from that seminar right now, get your passport and fly to Toronto immediately. I’ll pick you up from the airport and explain everything to you then.’_

 The message changed from received to read almost immediately. Obviously Hank was bored at his seminar anyway. Then he began typing. 

  _‘what the actual fuck’_

_‘Just do it.’_

_‘how about no’_

 

Lindsay was ready to throw her phone at the wind screen. 

 

_‘Please. It’s about Connor.’_

 

Despite all the alcohol, Hank was still reasonably intelligent. Lindsay hoped that it would be enough for him to come to the same conclusion she had come to earlier on. 

 

_‘I’ll let you know what time the plane gets there.’_

 

Finally at least one thing was going Lindsay’s way. Then she looked at flights and picked a few that were suitable, sending the details to Hank. 

 

It didn’t take Lindsay much longer to reach the border. She had only been to Canada once before. Back then, the border had looked nothing like it did now. There had been two officers waiting in her lane that had quickly checked her passport before telling her she was free to go. This time, she had to stop her car in a queue. Then Lindsay had to walk through a scanner, much like the ones used at airports, to detect that she wasn’t an android. In the meantime two officers checked her car to make sure she wasn’t hiding any androids in it. Despite all the safety measures, Lindsay wasn’t in the least surprised that Connor had apparently still made it across the border. Although she thought it seemed a lot easier to just dump the car somewhere nearby, then cross the border on foot somewhere in the middle of nowhere before just hiring a car in Canada. It would have made him harder to track, too. As it was, all she needed to do was give the Canadian police the number plate of her car and they’d be able to locate him in no time. While Lindsay watched the two officers finish their search of her own hire car, she realised that Connor must have been sure she wouldn’t call the police on him.

When Lindsay was finally allowed to leave, she took a second to just feel relieved that they hadn’t found her gun. She was almost surprised Connor hadn’t taken that as well. They had never talked about it but Lindsay assumed he knew the code for the safe. After all he seemed to know her passwords and codes for just about everything. So much for privacy. Maybe he just didn’t want to get her in trouble if he actually ended up using her gun and it would be traced back to her. Lindsay would have thought of it as very considerate if it wasn’t her damn gun she was talking about. And if Connor hadn’t just practically stolen her car.

 That was the thing with him; you never really knew what you were going to get. He was so confident when it came to things like negotiations and hunting criminals down, yet he was so awkward any other time. He had no problem reading people to determine if they were lying, but he couldn’t figure out a simple joke. Lindsay thought back to the time she had asked him how to put a giraffe into a refrigerator.

 

  _‘Why would you need to put a giraffe into a refrigerator?’_

_She laughed. ‘It’s a joke. So, how do you put a giraffe into a refrigerator?’_

_‘If it’s a joke, I don’t see anything funny about it. Are you telling it right?’_

_‘Yes. Now answer the question.’_

_‘Are you sure? I could look it up…’_

_‘Oh my god, Connor,’ Lindsay said, effectively interrupting him, ‘Just answer the damn question. How do you put a giraffe into a refrigerator?’_

_He watched her for a moment longer. ‘I don’t know.’_

_‘You open the refrigerator, put the giraffe in and then close the door.’ Lindsay had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing at Connor’s confused expression._

_‘What kind of refrigerator is this?’_

_‘The kind that has a giraffe in it. Anyway, how do you put an elephant into a refrigerator?’ She was barely able to get the words out._

_‘I don’t understand what you’re trying to…’_

_‘Open the refrigerator, take out the giraffe, put in the elephant and close the door.’_

_Connor blinked and slowly tilted his head to the side. ‘That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard you say.’_

 

They had spent the next twenty minutes arguing about what kind of situation would require a giraffe or an elephant to be put in a fridge. Connor had eventually declared that Lindsay had the worst sense of humour out of any human or android he had ever met.

 At first she had been worried that he might not enjoy her jokes, especially not if they were aimed at him, just because he often didn’t understand them. But Connor had insisted that he didn’t mind and that he didn’t want her to change just to accommodate him. Lindsay had always tried her hardest to explain why she found a particular thing funny, even though humour was hard to describe. Eventually Connor had admitted that he liked her jokes, even if he couldn’t keep up with them.

 _‘Even the giraffe in a refrigerator one?’_ Lindsay had grinned at him, knowing fully well he still didn’t understand it at all.

The thought only made her sad now and she started tearing up again, the road in front of her going blurry. Good thing this stupid car was driving itself. She would have never been able to see where she was going otherwise. But with nothing to do apart from watching the outside world go by and waiting, it was harder to keep her anxiety at bay. What on earth had Connor been thinking when he had decided to follow the McMillians to Canada? 

 Lindsay realized that the answer was surprisingly simple: Connor felt responsible for the case. Two criminals getting away equaled failure to him. His drive to succeed had originally only been a feature programmed by CyberLife. Lindsay had always thought that in time, it would go away or at least lessen. That what had previously been programming would now be taken over by personality. But she had been wrong. Where humans had a childhood that had shaped their personality, androids had nothing. Except programming. Connor’s drive to succeed was essentially the android equivalent of childhood neurosis gone too far. 

Lindsay supposed there was nothing wrong with wanting to succeed. Unless the motivation behind it was purely the intense fear of failure. While they had never really talked about it, Lindsay knew that Connor was terrified of failing. Trauma, she guessed. After all he had previously been threatened with deactivation if he didn’t succeed. It would have been interesting research material if it wasn’t her boyfriend she was talking about. Her stupid, dorky boyfriend who texted her pictures of dogs and got worked up over pointless jokes.

Lindsay was glad when she finally reached the airport in Toronto. At least she would no longer have to face this on her own. And maybe Hank even had an idea what they should actually do. Right now Lindsay didn’t even know where to go to find Connor, other than the highway that he had driven on, according to the toll notification she had received earlier on. 

Then Lindsay realized she was a complete idiot. Old as her car was, she had still updated it over the years. One of her updates had been a tracking system. Lindsay could have been tracking her car, and therefore hopefully Connor, the entire time. 

 

She reached for her phone, opening up the tracking website. There was a potential chance Connor might have removed the chip, but Lindsay doubted he had gone as far as damage her car. He knew how much she loved the old thing. The chip was apparently extremely difficult to hack, especially for androids. Or at least that’s what the technology company that had developed it had promised. A major technology company that Lindsay had ties to, so she had received the tracking system for free. 

In other words, it was a CyberLife product that had been given to her, which was the only reason she even had it in the first place. 

 The tracking system had been taken over by the government since CyberLife had dispensed. It showed when the page loaded slower than it had previously. Her car was located on highway 5, near a place called Chelsea. Lindsay didn’t have time to figure out what to do with this information when the car door opened.

 

'What the fuck is going on?’ Hank was already yelling at her before he had even made it into the vehicle. 

‘It’s... hard to explain.’ 

‘I flew all the way here for this so you better fucking try.’

‘And I _drove_ all the way here,’ Lindsay said. ‘Well, _technically_ the car did all of the driving.’ Hank frowned over at her. ‘Right. Not important.’ She didn’t know where to begin so instead Lindsay started the car and changed the destination to the coordinates her own car’s tracking system had provided her with. 

‘So?’ Hank prompted. 

‘Okay. Basically, Connor dropped me off at work this morning and then when I came home neither he nor my car were there. I texted him a couple of times but he never replied. Then eventually I got a text from the Canadian transport department to let me know I was being charged for my car driving on a toll road.’ 

The man next to her was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. 

‘What the hell?’ 

‘I know.’ 

‘But why do you think Connor is actually here?’ 

‘I’m pretty sure my car didn’t drive itself.’ 

‘Someone could have stolen it.’

Lindsay looked over at him. ‘You’ve seen my car, right?’ Upgrades or not, her car was an old piece of junk.

‘Fine,’ Hank said then. ‘Any idea where to go?’ 

Lindsay told him about the tracking system installed in her car, explaining that while the chip wasn’t removed all they really needed to do was catch up to the transmitted location. Which was easier said than done. 

‘So why didn’t he do something about that system? Or even just get a hire car?’ 

‘How would I know?’ Lindsay asked back. ‘I haven’t talked to him either.’ Her patience was running thin. She was tired, hungry and most of all worried. ‘Look,’ Lindsay said eventually, ‘I don’t know what Connor thinks he’s doing either. I don’t even know what _I’m_ doing.’

 

At first, Hank didn’t reply. He didn’t reply for so long that Lindsay thought he was ignoring her.

‘Redirect the car to the next rest stop,’ the man said finally.

‘What?’

‘You look just about ready to drop dead. We’re gonna stop for a bit, get some food.’

‘We don’t have time to stop.’

‘Just do it.’

 

As much as Lindsay didn’t want to listen, she was also starving. So she redirected the car.

‘Good girl.’

‘Fuck off.’

 

The rest stop was really just made up of the run-down remnants of an old petrol station. Almost ancient fluorescent lights only highlighted the stains and cracks everywhere. Lindsay bought a chocolate bar and a bottle of her favourite soda. She didn’t quite trust the place enough to risk purchasing anything else. Food poisoning was the last thing she needed.

While the cold wind outside helped wake her up, Lindsay still didn’t feel like staying outside for long and so she went back into the car while Hank remained outside to _make some calls_. He hadn’t told her who exactly he was calling and Lindsay didn’t ask. Instead, she pulled her phone out. There was most likely no point texting Connor again. Clearly he didn’t want to talk to any of them. But Lindsay still had plenty to say and so she opened up the conversation.

 

_‘I’m sorry I was such a bitch earlier. Hank and me are in Canada. I don’t know what you’re trying to do but please just stop and wait for us to catch up with you. We can figure this out together.’_

Lindsay locked her phone and put it aside to open her bottle of soda. The lid was stubborn and Lindsay was just starting to swear at it when her phone vibrated. She tried not to get her hopes up. It most likely wasn’t Connor. Just someone else with terrible timing. Finally the lid of her soda bottle came off. Lindsay took a sip before putting the bottle back in the cup holder. Then she checked her phone. The name on the display made her breath catch and she couldn’t unlock the device fast enough.

 

_‘Go home.’_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the third-last chapter! This was going to be the second last chapter but then it got way too long and I decided to break it up a little. Also this was a total bitch to write and I just wanted to be done haha. But on the bright side that also means that the next chapter is almost done and will be coming very soon. Plus I've already written a large part of the final chapter. Totally sounds like I'm super organized but I have really just abandoned all my responsibilities and spent a huge amount of time on this.  
> Today's fun fact: I made the damn car a Chevrolet because we just bought a Chevrolet the other week. Sue me.

The engine of the old stick-shift roared, almost as if screaming for a gear change. In the momentary distraction that was finally caving and texting Lindsay back, Connor had forgotten this was a manual car. He changed gears now, engine quieting almost immediately.

Why Lindsay insisted on driving such an old car, a 2017 model, had been beyond Connor at first. He supposed he saw the appeal now. It was fun. Although he wasn’t sure if that was because he liked actually driving or if he just liked the way he felt when he was in the car. Lindsay always turned the music up, to cover up all the _‘weird noises_ ’ the _‘rust bucket’_ made as she liked to say. It brought a strange sense of comfort, like a little bubble that kept the rest of the world locked out.

Connor thought it strange that the only two people he knew to still drive old cars like that were simultaneously the two people he was closest to. It made him wonder if Lindsay and Hank realized how alike they were. The cars, the swearing, their disrespect for authority and, almost annoyingly, their penchant towards getting themselves in trouble.  
Then again Connor had read the studies that proved that people often chose partners that reminded them of their parents.  
Not that Connor considered himself to be anyone’s _child._  
Especially _not_ Lieutenant Anderson’s.

It had been seventy-eight seconds since he had texted Lindsay. The message had changed to read almost immediately, so she had been on her phone. Her average reply speed was twenty-four seconds if she was using the device when receiving a message. So she was either sending a long message or she didn’t know what to say.  
Connor almost hoped it was the third option, that she wasn’t going to reply. It was difficult to just ignore her.

He had known Lindsay would figure out where he was eventually, although he had hoped he’d have more time. Just to play pretend a little while longer and hold on to a life he didn’t deserve before everything came crumbling down around him.

Taking Lindsay’s car was wrong. Connor hoped she would forgive him eventually. Not that it mattered. There was no way he would be able to return to his previous life. He would find the McMillians, capture them and then surrender them to the Canadian police, effectively turning himself in. They would ship him back to the US where he would be taken straight to prison.  
_Violation of android travel restrictions_. He wasn’t allowed to leave Detroit without a permit, especially not to go to Canada.  
Possibly _theft_ as well, if Lindsay pressed charges against him. Connor found it unlikely that she would, but he couldn’t be certain.  
_Forcible confinement_. He wasn’t allowed to arrest anyone, not even at work. Which made capturing the McMillians illegal.

His previous life had been good. He had liked it. There was always something new to learn, something different to experience. Connor had been lucky. A job, a home, a family... Maybe a dysfunctional family – Hank and Lindsay didn’t get along very well after all - but a family nonetheless.  
But why should he have any of that?

On the passenger seat, his phone vibrated at the same time as his system alerted him to an incoming message.

 

_‘Why are you doing this?’_

 

  
Even after she sent the message, Lindsay couldn’t help but to stare at her phone. She just didn’t understand. Lindsay had hoped that if Connor knew they were there, things would change. That maybe he had acted on impulse and then regretted it, but hadn’t wanted to turn around and come back. Because it was difficult to admit one was doing the wrong thing. Lindsay knew the feeling all too well. But clearly that hadn’t been the case.

  
The car door opened.  
‘The hell is wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost or something.’  
Connor’s mentor, more like father figure, didn’t help. Lindsay had only asked him to come with her so she wouldn’t be alone. Now that he was actually there, she wished he wasn’t.  
She held out her phone. The man squinted at the text messages.  
‘Well, at least we finally heard from him.’  
Lindsay wanted to yell at him. Her mouth opened but her brain refused to supply any words so she quickly shut it again.

‘Can you do that tracking thing again?’  
Lindsay ran the tracking program and then held out her phone wordlessly. She didn’t feel like talking anymore. What was the point anyway?  
‘Fuck, I can’t believe he’s actually doing this.’  
Lindsay took her phone back, blinking down at the coordinates. Some place called _Maniwaki_ , not far from where they were now. About an hour and a half.  
‘I called the station,’ the man next to her explained eventually. ‘they’ve been tracking a car that’s been hired in the name of one of McMillian’s party members. Guess where the fucking thing is right now.’  
‘Maniwaki.’  
‘Bingo.’

  
Lindsay thought it really wasn’t that surprising. It only confirmed her fears.  
‘I thought Connor was suspended and couldn’t log into the system.’  
She shrugged. ‘Probably used your password.’  
‘This is all your fault.’  
‘Excuse me?’  
‘You were there when he shot that fucking android, weren’t you? Why didn’t you do something?’  
‘I was outside.’ Lindsay’s hand was playing with one of the switches of the car, methodically flipping it up and down.  
‘Well, maybe you should have been inside. You know, do your fucking job for once.’  
‘Connor and me agreed it would be better if I didn’t go in.’  
‘Yeah, of course he agreed to that. Wouldn’t wanna get his pretty little girlfriend hurt, would he?’

For a second Lindsay was going to rise to the bait. She already had her answer lined up, something vicious about how Connor at least tried to protect the ones closest to him. Then she paused. She knew better than that.  
‘Listen,’ Lindsay said slowly, keeping her voice calm, ‘I know you’re just doing this because you’re worried. I’m worried, too. But arguing isn’t going to fix it. Let’s just focus on the actual problem.’

Next to her, Hank took a deep, shaky breath. He looked like he was about to start screaming at her.  
‘You’re right,’ he said then.

Lindsay couldn’t believe that had worked. She wished Connor had been there to see it.  
‘I’m glad we agree. Now, let’s go to Maniwaki.’

  
Maniwaki was a small town in Western Quebec. Some quick research uncovered that there was nothing notable about it other than the unsolved disappearance of two people more than thirty years ago.  
Other than that, there were a lot of trees. But there had been a lot of trees everywhere in Canada. Or maybe it wasn’t just Canada. Maybe this was a normal amount of trees.  
Connor wasn’t sure. He had only been outside of Detroit once, for the wedding of a co-worker. Back then he had only been on a few dates with Lindsay. It seemed impossibly long ago.

Connor knew he had been far too naive in those first few weeks of deviancy. _So hopeful_. As if things would just suddenly change. But in time Connor had realized that he was still nothing. Humans treated him differently. He wasn’t a person.  
Not even his own people wanted anything to do with him because he was a traitor.

The alert he had set up for the tracking of the McMillian’s hire car sent a notification straight to his field of vision. Connor was getting closer. He needed to focus. No time to dwell on feelings. He wouldn’t fail. Not _again_.

It didn’t take long to locate the vehicle.  
Admittedly they had been rather smart about hiding. Instead of parking at whichever establishment they had rented a room at, they had parked their car in an almost abandoned parking lot. But of course that only made it harder for Connor to locate them. Using Hank’s password to keep himself up-to-date on the investigation had been one thing.  
Hacking into the company's system to track the car that had been hired for the McMillians had been a whole other thing.  
But Connor had managed. So far no one had found him. Although he hadn’t accomplished his mission yet either. He realized that he had forgotten to add unlawful obtaining of information to the list of his offenses. Not that it mattered.

In any case, it would be best if he didn’t need to keep driving Lindsay’s car. He had known about the tracking device in it, of course. But he hadn’t been able to manipulate it and damaging any part of the vehicle had never been Connor’s plan.

The McMillians had parked their car at the edge of the parking lot, untouched by street lights. Despite all the smart thinking, they had made one mistake. Their vehicle was parked right next to an abandoned building, a large tree in front of it. It would be easy to park diagonally behind it, effectively boxing it in so they couldn’t leave. So that was exactly what Connor did. They wouldn’t use the car to get away. Now all he had to do was to actually find them.

Unfortunately, without the tracking of the car, he had very little to go on. There was only one small road leading from the main road to the parking lot. Connor thought it unlikely that two humans used to comfortable, almost luxurious, living conditions would chose to overnight in the woods, despite their current circumstances.  
So he headed back to the main road. There were security cameras attached to every street light and Connor thought of the book Lindsay had told him to read.

_Big brother is watching you._

In this case, big brother was doing a good thing.

The security of the CCTV network was almost pathetic. It only took Connor eight seconds to grant himself full access to the footage. He skipped through the most recent recordings until he spotted the two suspects he was looking for.  
Connor used the same approach to track them all across the small town. Judging by the time stamps on the footage, he was slowly catching up to them. Eventually he came across the last missing piece; the recording that showed them entering the _Auberge du Draveur,_ a small and slightly run-down looking hotel.

 

The reception desk was only dimly lit, the man behind it looking up when Connor entered.

‘Good evening, Sir.’

Connor thought that _evening_ was a bit of a stretch, considering it was 2.37am. But he didn’t say it out loud. Instead he focused on seeming as normal as possible, claiming he was from Montréal and looking for a room.

Of course the only thing Connor really cared about was finding out which room the McMillians were staying in. It seemed to be impossible with the hotel’s outdated technology working against him, the room information saved exclusively on the old computer behind the counter as opposed to on a network. For a moment Connor considered just knocking the receptionist out. But then he decided against it. His list of offenses was long enough already, he didn’t need to add assault to it. All he needed was to get the man, whose name was Matthew as a quick scan had revealed, away from his desk for long enough to find the information Connor needed. The scan had also revealed that the man was severely fatigued and so Connor stalked him from the hallway until he fell asleep at his desk. It wasn’t an ideal scenario and there was a 65% chance that Matthew would wake up but Connor decided to take the risk.

The terrible, user-unfriendly software matched the nearly ancient computer and Connor briefly wondered how there could be advanced androids like him while humans simultaneously used such outdated technology. But the thought was quickly pushed aside when he finally found what he was looking for; the list of occupied rooms. None of the rooms were registered under the name McMillian but it wasn’t surprising. After all even their car hadn’t been hired in their name.  
Instead, Connor compared their arrival time according to the CCTV footage to the time the most recent check-ins were logged.  
The security camera recording’s time stamp was 1.15am and the only two check-ins after that were Connor’s own and another one logged at 1.24am in the name of Petra Evans. It had to be them.

Almost as an afterthought, Connor also borrowed the key card to room 28. Easier to get in that way.

 

The hallway ahead was dark, the lights progressively but slowly flickering to life one by one as Connor proceeded. When he reached room 28 he paused for a moment. It was quiet, no noises coming from behind the closed door.

Connor swiped the key card. The light on the lock changed from red to green.  
He pushed the door open harder than necessary, making it slam into the wall of the narrow entryway.

The space was completely dark.  
Connor hit the lights and they came on quickly, revealing... nothing.

The room was empty.  
How the fuck was the room empty?

Before Connor had the chance to even think, a notification appeared in his field of vision.  
The McMillian’s hire car was moving.

Finally blowing caution to the wind completely, Connor sprinted back down the hotel hallway, out the front door and down the main road. He arrived back at the parking lot in record time.

But all thoughts of accomplishing his mission were forgotten momentarily when Connor caught sight of Lindsay’s car.  
The old Chevrolet was dinted, almost scrunched up, the passenger side pushed in so far the car was almost bending in on itself.  
It looked like the McMillian’s hire car had been reversed straight into Lindsay’s car until it had been pushed out of the way. Connor knew he should be upset that he had clearly lost the McMillian’s again. But for a moment he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He had never meant for Lindsay’s car to get damaged. It was her first car, given to her by her grandparents as a birthday present when she turned 17.  
Connor hadn’t only stolen it but now he had also caused it’s destruction.  
Lindsay would be so angry.

Despite the excessive damage to the outside of the car, the engine still started easily.  
The McMillian’s only had a five minute head-start; it would be easy to catch up with them.

  
But, despite the willing cooperation of the engine, the rest of the car wasn’t as enthusiastic. The fender at the front of the damaged side was bent far enough to touch the tire. Connor wasn’t an expert on cars by any stretch but he could practically hear the metal push against the rubber, a dragging noise that only increased as the vehicle picked up speed.  
There was nothing he could do about that now though. The car just had to hold up a little while longer.

This time tracking the McMillians went well. Or at least it did up until their location tag placed them on a dirt road leading nowhere. The by now most likely weakened tire did not appreciate the unpaved ground and popped almost immediately, making the car nearly impossible to steer. Connor let it roll off the road and into the adjacent field, somehow managing to manoeuvre it into a position that wouldn’t immediately let it be visible from the unpaved road. He’d have to deal with that later on.

There was only so far the McMillians could get in their car. The road ended just a few hundred meters ahead, near a lake. Even if they did try to get away on foot, he would be able to catch up with them. They were only human, they’d get tired at some point.

Connor spotted the car further down the road eventually, polished windows reflecting the light of the full moon. He moved closer slowly, staying off the road to avoid the crunch of the gravel under his feet. After all he didn’t exactly want to announce himself.

The mostly abandoned landscape was quiet, almost eerily so.

Only forty-eight meters separated Connor from the car. Why would they just stop out here like this? What were they doing?

 _Thirty-four meters_. It would be difficult to make them both cooperate without a weapon.

 _Twenty-six meters._ Maybe it would be easier to just knock them both out.

 _Eighteen meters._ If he was going to knock them out, he could have just knocked out the receptionist from earlier as well.

 _Nine meters_. Any other time he would have wondered where the rather cynical thought had come from.

_Five meters._

_Four meters._

_Three meters._

_Two meters._

_One meter._

  
The car was empty.  
Connor wasn’t sure why after all that had happened he had hoped to just find the McMillians in their car. Whatever game they were playing, they were clearly ahead of him. Although he had no idea how they even knew he was after them. Or how a semi-successful politician and his wife were so good at avoiding being discovered.

To Connor’s surprise, another car came down the unpaved road slowly, the engine shutting off somewhere behind him. It seemed to be a strange coincide that anyone would come down here, considering how abandoned the area appeared to be.  
He turned around and scanned the number plate.  
The vehicle was registered to a hire car company in Detroit.  
And Connor was in a lot of trouble.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second last chapter! I can't believe we've actually made it this far haha. The more chapters I write for something, the more anxious I get when it comes to posting. I hate myself.

Connor couldn’t see through the tinted windows of the car. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Finally, after all this, his nerves got the better of him and Connor pulled his coin from his pocket, nervously fiddling with it at his side.

It took thirty-seven seconds for the car door to open. Then Lindsay climbed from the vehicle.

Of course Connor had spent a significant amount of time calculating her most likely reaction. But none of it had prepared him for this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Lindsay wasn’t meant to be there.  
She should have been at home. Connor should have only seen her again before they dragged him to jail, just to tell her how sorry she was.  
No part of his plan had ever included having her follow him.

Lindsay didn’t look at him, eyes fixed on the dirt road, gravel crunching underneath her boots. She didn’t stop walking until she was right in front of him. Connor was sure he was about to get yelled at. Instead, Lindsay hugged him. Confusion and hesitation took over for a second but eventually he hugged her back.

‘Tell me you’re okay.’  
‘I’m okay,’ he parroted and Lindsay squeezed him a little harder. Then she let go and took a step back.  
‘What the fuck were you thinking?’  
Connor blinked down at her in surprise. ‘I’m sorry?’  
‘Don’t play dumb with me. How could you just leave like that?’  
‘I...’ Connor couldn’t think of a way to finish his sentence so he shut his mouth again.  
Lindsay’s expression softened. ‘You could have talked to me.’  
‘I know.’  
Her arms crossed in front of her chest and she took another step back. ‘But instead you chose to just disappear, run off to fucking Canada to do what exactly?!  
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t...,’ Connor began, hoping to be able to soothe her by apologizing. But he didn’t get a chance to finish what he was saying when Lindsay interrupted him.  
‘No. I don’t wanna hear it. What kind of stupid pity party trip is this supposed to fucking be? Are you trying to get arrested? Because that’s not going to bring Stuart back either.’

In the distance Hank had emerged from the car as well but had made the very smart decision not to interrupt.  
‘I was trying to make things right.’  
Finally Lindsay seemed to calm down a little. ‘This isn’t the way to go about it. Come home, wait until you’re reinstated and then you can go catch them.’  
‘No, I’m sorry.’  
She froze. ‘What do you mean _‘no’_?’  
‘I haven’t accomplished what I set out to do yet, therefor I can not leave.’  
Connor knew he had made her angry again when her fingers began tapping a rapid rhythm against her upper arm.  
‘Right. Of course not.’  
‘As I told you last night, your best course of action would be to return home.’  
It was the wrong thing to say. Lindsay’s eyes narrowed just a fraction. ‘Fine. But I’ll have my car back.’  
Oh no. This was absolutely the wrong time to tell her about the car.  
Still, Connor pulled the key card from his pocket and dropped it in her outstretched hand. ‘There is one more thing.’  
‘What?’ Lindsay hissed at him.  
‘Your car was damaged and...’  
‘Fuck you.’

Maybe it was hearing about her car that finally made her crack. Or maybe it had only been a matter of time all along. Lindsay was never quite sure. Nevertheless she spun on her heels and made her way further down the unpaved road, away from the two cars. With her vision blurry, Lindsay couldn’t see where she was going and it was a miracle she didn’t trip over anything. But she didn’t care. All she knew was that she had to _get away_.

Eventually she reached what she identified as the end of the road, the gravel ending abruptly on a small hill, a little lake stretched out at the bottom, dark water reflecting the night sky. At least that’s what Lindsay thought it looked like through the thick curtain of tears she refused to let fall.  
She wouldn’t cry again, didn’t even remember the last time she had cried this much in just a few of days.  
It didn’t help.

Before Lindsay could do anything to stop the flood, she was sobbing again. This time it was hard to breathe and her chest made a wheezing sound every time she inhaled, every sob hurting her lungs.

After a while she heard the gravel crunch behind her. The noise came steadily closer until it stopped not far from her. There was only one person stupid and caring enough to follow her like this, despite everything. But she didn’t want to talk.  
‘Lindsay?’  
‘Go away.’  
‘Listen, I...’  
‘ _Go. Away._ ’ She ground the words out, now fueled only by anger.  
‘I understand that you’re upset. I will replace your car and...’  
‘It’s not some fucking pile of metal that you can just replace,’ Lindsay’s voice rose in volume, the lump in her throat adding a rough edge. She could no longer suppress the shaking. ‘Now fuck off, Connor.’ All her anger was put into the words to make sure they stung, her intention behind them unmistakable. Even for Connor.  
‘Right. I’m sorry.’

She could hear him retreat even as her legs began to shake so violently Lindsay thought her knees might give in. The dull ache in her chest turned into a stabbing pain that threatened to take what little breath she had. A part of her brain was still trying to fight it.  
Find three things you can see. Three things you can hear. Three things you can smell.  
But the larger part of her was far too exhausted to care. Lindsay did nothing as the riot in her head finally took control.

It ebbed away, eventually. Just like it always did. Breathing became easier, little by little. Her vision became clearer, little by little. A throbbing pain settled itself in her temples as she used her sleeves to wipe at the remaining tears.  
In the distance the sky was slowly lighting up. Lindsay knew she had to make her way back but it was hard to bring herself to. She blamed it on her shaking legs, not how bad she felt for flipping out at Connor.  
With a sigh Lindsay began to follow the dirt road back to the cars she had left behind.

The passenger cabin of her hire car was illuminated softly, light spilling out even as the sky slowly came to life. Hank was inside the vehicle, apparently pressing random buttons if the assortment of lights that were flickering on and off was anything to go by. Connor was leaning against the side of the car, watching her approach. The ground was suddenly very interesting to watch so Lindsay kept her eyes focused on it until she reached the car.

Connor thought it was curious that Lindsay so obviously avoided looking at him. She stopped not far from him.  
‘Hey.’  
‘Hi.’  
‘Listen...’ Lindsay cut herself off with a sigh and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry.’  
‘You have nothing to apologize for.’ Her little outburst was nothing he wasn’t used to. People had said much worse things to him.  
‘I do. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that and I’m sorry.’  
‘I understand. You were upset and not in control of your actions.’ Connor had gone after her in hopes of being able to provide some comfort. Instead he had only aggravated her further. Even now, Lindsay didn’t seem convinced.  
‘I liked what you said, though,’ he added and finally she looked up at him. Connor noted that her eyes were bloodshot and glassy.  
‘About what?’  
‘About your car not just being a pile of metal that can be replaced.’  
Lindsay had told him before that he wasn’t just something that could be replaced, but he had always found it difficult to believe her. Perhaps she just said what she knew he wanted to hear. But this time her words had been almost out of her control and he believed them to be genuine. If Lindsay felt that way about a car, then perhaps he, too, was irreplaceable.

Connor was almost surprised when Lindsay didn’t seem able to connect the dots. She just nodded.  
‘It’s just... I’ve had it for a long time. I’ll get over it.’  
Her voice was quiet and her gaze had dropped back down. Usually Connor just asked her if she was alright but he estimated there was only a 27% chance of getting a truthful answer. So he chose a different approach and ran a quick scan.

  
The results were worrying. Her heart rate was much too fast. His sensors also indicated that Lindsay was dehydrated and, perhaps even worse, that her body temperature was currently 0.5 degrees under her normal temperature. His systems concluded she was severely fatigued, although Connor couldn’t decide if it was due to the stress of the last few days or caused by what he now assumed had been a panic attack earlier on.  
‘You should get in the car so you can sit down.’  
Lindsay hummed in acknowledgement but didn’t move.  
‘Are you listening?’  
‘What? Yeah. Of course.’  
‘Then what did I just say?’  
She looked up at him, forehead creasing. ‘You... I don’t know.’  
Connor wasn’t sure what to do. Taking care of people wasn’t exactly his forte.  
‘You’re starting to worry me.’  
‘I’m fine,’ Lindsay mumbled as she leant against him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Only now Connor realized that she was shaking. When he reached for her hands he found them to be cold and clammy.  
‘You should really go and sit down.’  
‘Gimme a minute.’ Her voice was muffled against his neck.  
Connor knew what she meant but almost automatically started a 60-second-countdown anyway, watching time tick by in the corner of his vision.

  
At 28 seconds, the car window next to him opened.  
‘The fuck are you two doing out there?’  
Advanced prototype or not, Connor wasn’t as quick at coming up with a reply as Lindsay was.  
‘Shut it, we’re having a moment.’  
Another string of curse words spilled from the vehicle but the window shut again.  
‘Where’d you leave it anyway?’ He felt the words uttered against his skin.  
‘Excuse me?’  
‘My car. Where’d you leave it?’  
Right, the car.  
‘It’s not far from here. Would you like to see it?’  
Lindsay seemed to think for a moment. Then she pulled away. ‘No. I just need the location so I can have it towed.’  
Connor had never been sentimental before. The car was just a machine. But still he thought that the words seemed awfully final, almost cruel. So many years of memories, scrunched up and dragged along, most likely to be disposed of as scrap metal.  
It didn’t seem _right_.

His attention shifted back to Lindsay, halfway through the car door already, turning around to face him  
‘Are you coming with us or not?’  
She was watching him closely, expression almost stoically neutral so she wouldn’t give anything away.  
Connor knew he wanted to say no, needed to say no if he was going to accomplish his mission this time.  
And really, he was going to say no. Because he wanted justice. Because he had to make things right.  
But the idea was so tempting... Just a few hours to slip back into the familiar company of the people he cared about.  
Before Connor had the chance to make a conscious decision, he was already nodding.  
‘Good.’ Lindsay smiled at him but the expression never reached her eyes.

The world looked different in the golden glow of the morning light. Everything seemed softer somehow.  
Connor looked over at Lindsay occasionally, watching her watch cars and people pass by.  
‘If you’ve got something to say, just fucking say it,’ Hank growled at him from the front seat. ‘Don’t just stare like some damn sad puppy or something. Makes me sick just watching that.’

‘Shut the fuck up, old man,’ Lindsay replied almost lazily, never even bothering to look at him.  
‘What happened to ‘arguing won’t make it any better’?’  
‘We’re not arguing. You’re talking and I’m telling you to stop. Simple.’

Connor had no idea what was going on and why he apparently looked like a dog. He was still trying to decipher the conversation when Lindsay tensed next to him.

‘Holy shit, is that them?’

It took Connor 0.2 seconds to find what, or rather who, she was looking at. He recognized Arthur and Patricia McMillian immediately, entering the Maniwaki train station.  
He was going to lose them.  
There was no way to stop the car and turn it around in time.  
He was going to fail his mission.

His systems calculated different scenarios in record time. There was just one that could work.  
The automated car was only going 35 miles an hour. Jumping from a vehicle at this speed would not be enough to cause him fatal damage, as long as he didn’t get hit by any oncoming vehicles.

Connor didn’t wait for his systems to finish calculating the probability of success.  
Instead, he pulled the emergency door release and jumped from the car.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready or not, here comes more garbage!
> 
> I know I said this would be the last chapter but then it ended up being like 10k words long so I had to split it up for ease of reading and so I wouldn’t go insane while editing. But the second half of this chapter is almost done and will be up in the next couple of days (plus there’s no cliffhanger at the end of this one so you can all sleep in peace while you wait). 
> 
> Fun fact: I wrote 80% of this while I was half asleep and when I woke up the next day I had no recollection of it so basically I had to read my own fic to know wtf is going on and this chapter is honestly so unnecessarily dramatic ahaha
> 
> Anyway, I’m gonna shut up now (finally).

 The brakes of the automated vehicle screeched as it came to a sudden halt in the middle of the road.

In any other scenario, Lindsay would have admired Hank’s creative and surprisingly affluent string of curses.

In any other scenario she would have admired her boyfriend as he practically vaulted over the bonnet of a still moving car. The same boyfriend who liked dogs and had freaked out the first time he had seen her getting a paper cut.

But in this scenario, Lindsay did the dumbest thing she could think of.

‘Call the cops,’ she somehow got out while jumping from the car herself, running across the busy road with no regard for personal safety.

 

Lucky for her, most cars had already stopped when Connor crossed the road.

Unlucky for her, she wasn’t a fancy prototype android with nearly endless stamina and a processor with the capability of calculating almost anything in next to no time.

Instead all that Lindsay had was an old-fashioned human brain and a heart that was currently struggling to supply her body with oxygenated blood.

 In a strange moment of clarity she wished she was a little more serious about going to the gym.

 

Somehow, she managed to get across the road and to the train station. There were only few people here this early in the morning but they were all staring at her.

‘Gonna miss my train,’ she laughed awkwardly as she went inside, hoping it would make them stop looking at her.

Lindsay still wasn’t an android. She had no idea where Connor had gone or what his plan was. Even worse, she could practically feel herself starting to panic again.

_Not helping._

 

Instead of focusing on how her legs were shaking from exertion or how she was struggling to even take a proper breath, Lindsay focused on the large announcement board. There were several trains listed to leave within the next forty minutes.Which one seemed the most convenient for two criminals on the run?

Lindsay had no idea. So she chose the train leaving the soonest and rushed to the platform. If she would be able to intercept the McMillians until the police arrived, Connor wouldn’t need to get involved. Hopefully. If seeing them arrested was all he wanted. She still wasn’t sure.

Lindsay had almost made it to the platform, this part of the train station mostly deserted and the high windows not touched by the early morning sunlight yet, the space only illuminated by a few, rather sad, light bulbs. A perfect place to leave from if you didn’t want to be seen.

But Lindsay didn’t get the chance to discover if the two people she was looking for were actually there or not when someone grabbed her, pulling her back and into a small, dark hallway leading to a maintenance closet. For a moment she was too stunned to yell or fight or do anything, really. Then she found herself blinking at features familiar even in the low light. Her body relaxed instantly.

 

‘What the fuck are you doing?’

She had rarely heard Connor swear before but this probably wasn’t the time to comment on it.

‘No, _what the actual fuck_ are you doing?’

‘You shouldn’t be here.’

‘Neither should you.’ Her voice came out far too loud and much too sharp. ‘Please, come back to the car with me,’ she tried again, much softer this time.

Only now Lindsay realized that he still had a death-grip on her upper arm, enough force to bruise the skin there.

‘I can’t.’

‘The police are on their way,’ she said softly, no idea if it was true or not. But she would have said anything to stop this. ‘Just let them do their job.’

‘You know that the Canadian Police won’t do anything.’

‘I’m sure they will. Please stop.’

Lindsay was almost certain that nothing she said really had an effect. The way his jaw was set, eyes slightly narrowed but somehow empty while simultaneously filled with a cold desperation made her wonder if Connor was even listening to her. Paired with the absence of his led, he looked almost unfamiliar.

 

She watched as his gaze fell on the hand still on her arm as if he hadn’t realized he was still holding on to her. He let go then, his arm dropping back down to hang limply at his side. Lindsay resisted the urge to rub at the throbbing spot.

‘I’m sorry but I have to do this.’

‘You don’t.’

‘Lindsay...’

‘No,’ she cut him off. ‘Just come home with me.’

‘I can’t.’ Connor attempted to push past her and Lindsay straightened up, trying to make herself look more intimidating although she doubted it worked. So instead it was her turn to attach herself to his arm.

‘Don’t do this.’

‘Let me go.’

‘No.’

Lindsay could practically see him calculate the best way to get what he wanted. There was no way she could physically overpower Connor and they both knew it. If only Anderson would hurry up so she wouldn’t be responsible for the outcome of this by herself.

 ‘Let me go,’ he repeated then and stepped closer, practically towering over her.

‘No.’ She refused to be intimidated.

‘I don’t intend on hurting you,’ Connor said evenly, his other hand coming up to wrap around hers, the one still attached to his arm, ‘but I don’t intend on letting them get away either.’

‘Well, you’re going to have to choose between the two.’ Lindsay sounded a lot more confident than she actually felt and she was sure he could tell.

The hand around her wrist tightened even as she increased her own grip and for a moment she thought she would just end up waiting for her bones to snap.

 ‘Why do you want to throw your life away so badly?’ she got out even as her hand actually began to hurt.

‘Because I don’t deserve it.’ The words came out with an unexpected sharpness she had never heard from Connor before.

Lindsay also realized she had no idea what he was talking about. Whatever it was, it was far beyond her.

Finally she let go of him.

‘Go, then. If that’s really what you want.’

For a split second Connor looked as confused as she felt. Then he brushed past her.

If there had been any time, she might have examined the way her heart broke in her chest. As it was, she only heard the familiar clicking noise of the safety switch of a gun. Connor stopped immediately and a second later she caught the dull gleam of the light reflected in the metal of the barrel of a gun.

Her gun, she realized then.

Lindsay wasn’t sure why she had brought it, but she was almost certain it wasn’t to find it aimed straight at Connor’s head.

 

‘Lieutenant Anderson,’ he said slowly, voice carefully devoid of any emotion, ‘put down the weapon.’

‘No fuckin’ way.’

While Lindsay’s brain screamed at her to do something, her body wouldn’t cooperate.

‘Hank, we both know you are not going to shoot me with Lindsay’s gun.’ The change in approach was almost painfully obvious, clearly Connor’s attempt at gauging the best way to get out of his current predicament.

‘Move and you’ll find out what I’m going to do.’

‘What the fuck is wrong with both of you?’ Lindsay finally hissed, almost surprised she managed to get the words out.

‘You should go back to the car.’ Connor’s eyes didn’t leave the gun in front of him even as he spoke.

‘If it wasn’t for you I’d be in the car right now.’

 

A strange noise came from somewhere in the train station, the big, empty halls creating an echo that made it impossible to track the source. For humans, at least.

For the first time during the exchange Connor’s eyes left the gun, drifting somewhere to the left. But before Lindsay had a chance to work out what he was looking at he moved, almost too fast for her to track. Everything was a bit of a blur as he darted to the side, out of the line of the gun, while simultaneously moving forward to grab the collar of Hank’s jacket and yank him further into the hallway. The man practically flew past Lindsay sideways before she herself was pushed further into the dark.

Her expectation was that Connor had created an opportunity to disappear again, but he was right there as she whipped around, facing her. Meanwhile Hank was catching himself against the maintenance closet door, gun clattering to the floor as he tried to get his feet under him.

Lindsay was ready to verbally launch herself at Connor but found a hand clamped over her mouth. For a second she tried to give him her best l _et-go-or-I’ll-kill-you-look_ , but her attention was drawn away when the noise from before seemed to come closer.

Two police officers ran past the hallway and Lindsay would have sighed in relief if she hadn’t needed to be quiet.

Connor’s hand finally left her mouth and breathing became a lot easier again.

‘ _I told you_ ,’ she mouthed at him.

 

There was shouting coming from the the direction of the platform, words that Lindsay didn’t understand. More officers came past the hallway.

‘We need to get out of here,’ Hank said behind her, voice low. He was right.

By herself, passing as just another passenger waiting at the platform, Lindsay would have been fine. Hiding in a dark hallway with an android and a man with a gun that had been illegally brought into the country was less ideal. Getting out unnoticed was the better option but it was easier said than done, the platform to the right of their hallway now crawling with police officers in some sort of standoff with what Lindsay assumed was Arthur McMillian and his wife. Everything else would have been a strange coincidence.

 

While they might have been able to slip away unnoticed during the commotion, it didn’t fix the problem of getting out of the train station. The building was now even more deserted than it had previously been and through the large glass doors at the front entrance Lindsay could make out the red-blue-red-blue flash of police cars.

But luckily they still had Connor, who, if not temporarily distracted by bad ideas, was great at getting out of unfavorable situations. Although it was debatable if it was a skill attained by talent or experience. Either way, he seemed to focus for a moment, forehead creasing, before he crowded the two humans back towards the maintenance closet door.

‘The fuck are you doing? That’s a dead end!’ Despite everything, Hank still didn’t seem to trust in Connor’s skills.

‘I’ve downloaded the building plans, it’s not a dead end.’

He used what Lindsay could only describe as an illegal method she didn’t want to think about further to unlock the door.

The closet was in many ways exactly what Lindsay had expected. Small, dusty, crowded with an array of tools and equipment. But the unexpected thing was the door at the opposite wall, a twin of the door they had just entered through.

From this side the door opened easily, probably so no one would get locked inside the closet. It led into a hallway that was a copy of the one they had previously been in as well. Lindsay’s tired brain marvelled at how they were the same and yet different but she pushed the thought aside. This was the worst possible time to get all philosophical. Although she knew that at this point she was practically useless, her body suddenly too heavy for her legs to carry even as anxiety made her head feel strangely light.

Connor of course noticed and took to dragging her along, hand wrapping around her upper arm again. Any other time she would have complained but now Lindsay was really just glad that it was her other arm, not the probably bruised one.

 While the surprise door had fixed their problem of having the cops to their right, it had not fixed the problem of actually getting out of the train station. But Connor, or better the building’s plans, offered a solution to that as well: an emergency exit along the opposite wall, shielded from view by an ancient, restored phone booth, which Lindsay was only able to identify by the sign on top of it.

 They darted across the hallway, even though in her case it was more like stumbling, and stopped in the small area protected from view.

Despite everything, Lindsay recognized the little box next to the door as an alarm, a small and flashing blue light signalling its connection to some sort of network. As they approached the light turned red and she tried not to make a list of all the illegal things Connor had done in the last fifteen minutes alone.

They pushed through the door and after the relative warmth of the station the cold outside air was almost a shock.

The emergency exit door slammed shut with an equally shocking bang but no one came to check immediately. Perhaps no one had noticed but they didn’t stick around to find out.

There was a small alleyway that led to a mostly abandoned, run down old parking lot that might have been part of the train station at some point.

Now there were only two cars there. One of them seemed to have been permanently parked there if the rust and dirt and general appearance of abandonment were anything to go by. The other one was Lindsay’s now semi-familiar hire car.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! For real this time. I can't believe we made it this far tbh.  
> This time we're talking about feelings. yikes.

Connor told himself there was nothing to worry about when he had to more or less guide Lindsay to the car. She was clearly exhausted and the excitement of the last minutes hadn’t helped either. Although Connor had been aware of her taking note of the alarm at the emergency door and his disabling it. He was glad the network had been so poorly secured and that Lindsay had decided not to comment on it. 

Now that the situation was less tense Connor guided her with a hand on her shoulder, realizing he had perhaps been a little rough before. She hadn’t complained and he hadn’t detected her being in pain but it didn’t mean much considering she could be stubborn and hard to read when she wanted to be. And either way, he himself had been distracted. 

They reached the car without any more incidents, although Connor briefly considered turning back to make sure the McMillians were actually being arrested. 

But whatever had been driving him before wasn’t so clear to him anymore now. He just felt... _overwhelmed._  

 

When they entered the car and dropped on their respective seats there was a moment of silence as everyone seemed to try and find their bearings. 

‘Well,’ Lindsay said eventually, ‘that was fun.’ 

Connor thought she didn’t sound like she had had fun.

 

The comment was followed by a short yet intense discussion about what to do next. Only two minutes later Connor found himself on the way to some hotel to stay overnight because no one was in the mood to begin the lengthy journey home.

It was quiet on the drive. Even Connor could tell the atmosphere was uncomfortable and he found himself strangely unsure of what to say. Not that he thought it mattered. Neither human in the car seemed really coherent enough to have any kind of conversation. They both looked exhausted. 

Connor, while physically unable to look exhausted, thought that he at least shared the feeling in spirit. Previously he’d never thought it possible for an android, or at least not himself, to feel that way. And yet, here he was. 

 

Fortunately the hotel wasn’t too far away and they arrived within forty-five minutes, although they had gone in the opposite direction of home but Connor had thought it smart not to bring that up. 

 

The lobby of the _Quality Inn_ was a large, formerly perhaps luxurious space. It was empty except for a woman working on a tablet in the far corner and the receptionist behind the desk, who didn’t seem to find anything strange about three people checking in on a Friday afternoon, no matter how dismayed Hank looked and how fake Lindsay’s smile was. 

 

They were given rooms on the third floor and the elevator ride up was equally uncomfortable as the trip in the car had been. Connor had been almost surprised when Lindsay had revealed she still wanted to share a room with him but he had decided it was better not to comment on it, just in case it would make her change her mind. He watched her now, the keycard to room 34 clutched in her hand, fingers slightly flicking the edge of it, the rhythmic noise almost a vibrating sound that reminded Connor of his coin, safely tucked away in his pocket.

Hank seemed just about ready to tell her to _fucking stop_ but was cut off by the little noise of the elevator announcing they had reached their destination. 

Connor watched the man enter his room, number 33, before stepping into his own.

 

The room was dingy and dark, even with the lights on. Tired grey carpets and curtains did little to brighten the atmosphere, walls that had once been a cream colour but now just looked dirty unable to lighten the space. There was a double bed underneath a dirty window at the far wall, a glass door beside it leading to a small balcony. The only other furniture was a worn out armchair in the corner next to a wall-mounted TV across from the bed.

 

‘Wow,’ Lindsay said as she spun around herself to admire the room, ‘I can’t believe I’m paying a hundred bucks for this.’ Then she stopped, frowning for a moment. ‘Actually I should have known it would look like this. What else would you expect from a place called _Quality_ Inn?’ 

 

‘It’s certainly very... old-fashioned.’ Connor wasn’t entirely sure how to judge taste, but he thought it was a fair statement.

‘Old-fashioned? I’d call it ugly but suit yourself.’

Lindsay tossed her phone on the bed before carefully sitting down on the piece of furniture herself, as if it might break underneath her. Judging by the state of the room, it was possible. 

 

‘You gonna keep hovering over there or what?’ 

Connor felt his head starting to tilt in confusion before he could stop himself. It was a stupid habit he couldn’t seem to shake. Just like his tendency of not quite knowing what to do with himself when entering or leaving a room. Especially now that he wasn’t sure what to expect. It seemed most likely that Lindsay would yell at him again. He certainly deserved it.

 

But despite his worst expectations she just patted the bed next to her. ‘Come on, it’s not great but it’s not terrible either.’ 

‘What’s wrong with the bed?’ Connor asked as he finally crossed the room.

‘I don’t know if it’s the mattress or the frame but there’s kind of a dip in the middle.’ 

Upon sitting down on the bed, he knew what Lindsay meant. The middle section of the bed was sunken in, giving the strangle feeling that the piece of furniture was about to collapse in on itself.

 

While Connor had been busy analyzing the state of the bed, Lindsay’s attention had already shifted and she reached for her phone on the covers between them. ‘Someone probably got screwed really good in here and broke the bed or something,’ she remarked absentmindedly as she unlocked the device. 

‘Let’s hope they’ve washed the sheets since then.’ 

At that she looked up at him again, features twisted into a strange grimace.

‘What is it?’ Connor asked in confusion, unable to read her expression.

‘I’m not sure if I want to laugh because that was actually funny or if I’m annoyed with you for putting that thought in my head.’

‘Would you like me to run an analysis so we can know for sure?’ 

‘ _Oh, Christ, no_. How is that going to help at all? I’d rather now know.’ 

‘Fine.’ Connor watched as Lindsay scrolled through a conversation on her phone before she started typing. But at this angle even his advanced optical units couldn’t make out what the message said.

 

It was almost uncomfortably quiet, as if they both didn’t know what to say now that there was nothing to do. Connor didn’t need a program to tell him Lindsay was obviously still angry at him. But she had chosen not to act on it for now and Connor found himself strangely relieved. He didn’t want to accidentally start an argument by saying the wrong thing. 

 

Four minutes and thirty-three seconds passed in silence.

Strangely, Connor thought that if he was human, he would have probably fallen asleep. He was almost surprised that Lindsay was still awake.

 

‘Can I ask you something?’ she questioned then and Connor blinked rapidly.

This was it, wasn’t it? The start of an argument. 

His vocalizer didn’t seem to want to cooperate and Connor swallowed, hoping the motion would make the unit function. 

Meanwhile Lindsay watched him intently. 

‘Are you glitching again, _bug_?’ 

The nickname came as a surprise even as Connor was distracted trying to forcibly close a notification that took up a quarter of his vision. He didn’t find it particularly helpful to know that his stress level had jumped up to 58%. 

 

‘No,’ he finally replied, ‘I just...’ 

His processor refused to supply an ending to the sentence. The stuttering was only going to make Lindsay angrier because he couldn’t even explain himself. Or worse, she would be disappointed. 

Angry, Connor could handle that. People were angry at him all the time. 

Disappointment was a whole other thing. 

Knowing he had failed to meet someone’s expectations... 

 

‘Nervous, are we?’ She said it with no maliciousness whatsoever, instead trying to hide her amusement.

‘Perhaps a little,’ he admitted, Lindsay’s light tone not quite enough to quell his worries.

‘Good. You deserve that. Do you have any idea what you put me through?’ 

A new notification popped up. 

 

_Stress level at 64%, decision making affected. Begin calibration routine._

 

Connor was no expert on social interaction but this seemed like a really bad time for coin tricks. 

‘I know,’ he said, slowly. ‘I’m sorry. You must be so disappointed.’ 

Next to him, Lindsay sighed. ‘I’m not disappointed with you. Angry, yes. But the only person I’m disappointed in is me.’ 

When she reached out to hold his hand, he was surprised to find that it was shaking. 

‘Is that why you’re freaking out? Because you’re worried I’m disappointed?’ 

‘I think so.’ 

Lindsay squeezed his hand. ‘I’m not disappointed. None of this is even what I wanted to say in the first place.’ 

 

Right. The question. 

Connor was almost sure she was using it as a distraction now. ‘What did you want to ask me?’ 

‘How did you get across the border? I mean it wouldn’t have surprised me if you’d crossed illegally. But you took my car and everything so you must have gone through a checkpoint. How did you avoid the scanner?’ 

‘I didn’t.’ He retracted his epidermis from the hand Lindsay was holding and pulled his sleeve back to reveal the chip attached to the forearm plate of his exoskeleton. 

 

Lindsay noticed the addition immediately and her hand moved up, fingers trailing over the shiny new part, completely unfazed by the sudden lack of skin on half his arm. ‘Where did you get this?’ 

‘It was developed by a group of androids recently, for those who wanted to leave the country. I only heard about it not long ago, it’s been kept secret very well.’ Connor watched her closely to see if she would be upset upon finding out that he hadn’t been sharing everything he knew with her. But Lindsay seemed far too distracted to care.

‘How does it work? 

‘The chip is attached to a biocomponent that replaces my usual epidermis with a slightly different one which is capable of reflecting the waves of the scanner in a way that is identical to that of a human body when hit with radiation.’ 

‘So technically, this isn’t your skin.’ 

‘Correct.’ 

Only now he realized that the knowledge might be disturbing to a human. All they had was their natural body and replacing parts of it was difficult. But to an android it made no difference. Or at least it didn’t to Connor. The epidermis from the new component was as much part of him now as his standard one. 

 

If Lindsay felt disturbed in any way, the emotion was currently outweighed by curiosity as she kept her eyes fixed on the chip, trying to process this new knowledge as her fingertips traced invisible lines on his exoskeleton. 

‘That’s actually so cool,’ she said eventually. Her other hand came up to touch Connor’s, the one still wrapped in his new epidermis, and her thumb rubbed across his palm. 

‘It doesn’t feel any different,’ Lindsay observed as her hand receded back to her lap, fingers tapping against her thigh. ‘Doesn’t look any different, either.’ 

‘The chip is coded to my usual appearance.’ 

 

Lindsay still seemed to be thinking and he waited patiently. Connor supposed it was fortunate that she was very well aware of what androids were really made of. No illusions of flesh and bone to be shattered. 

 

‘You didn’t answer my question,’ was all she finally said.

‘Pardon?’ 

‘Earlier, I asked where you got this from. You told me who developed it but nothing else. It’s not like you could have asked for the parts without anyone knowing you were planning on leaving. Did you steal this?’ 

‘I borrowed it,’ Connor replied carefully, fully aware he was technically lying. 

 

The memory of trying to install the new biocomponent that housed the non-newtonian fluid that acted as his skin began to resurface. It hadn’t been pleasant, trying to remove his forearm plate using only one hand before attempting to wedge the part into the correct spot. Designing the component to be fitted to other parts of an android’s body would have been much more efficient but Connor supposed it had been deliberately made to be installed by another person so no one could _just leave_. 

 

‘ _Borrowed_ ,’ Lindsay repeated slowly. ‘Sure.’

‘Does it matter where the part came from?’ 

‘To be honest, yes. I’m trying to find out just how much trouble you really got yourself into.’

Connor thought he had managed to avoid most trouble so far. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said instead.

‘You should be.’ 

 

The conversation died with that, silence creeping into the room once more. 

Eventually Lindsay yawned next to him.

‘You should get some sleep.’ 

Lindsay shook her head. ‘I’m fine.’ 

Connor watched her for a moment longer. He didn’t need to analyze her to know she was exhausted. The prominent dark circles underneath her bloodshot eyes were all the proof he needed. But he didn’t understand why she was refusing to rest. 

 

‘Are you nervous about tomorrow?’ Connor probed gently. It seemed the most likely cause, considering they would have to cross the border on their way home.

Lindsay shrugged. ‘A little. But I mean you managed to get into Canada just fine so I’m sure you can get back home, too.’ 

‘The technology seems rather efficient,’ he agreed.

‘Did you know if it was actually working before you tried to cross the border?’ 

‘Not for certain. There had only been rumours about androids successfully crossing the border with help of the new component.’

Lindsay nodded thoughtfully but stayed quiet, instead beginning to chew her bottom lip. 

 

‘Now get some sleep.’

But again she shook her head. ‘I told you I’m fine.’

‘You’re exhausted. I don’t know why you’re refusing to rest.’ 

Lindsay laughed soundlessly. ‘Yeah, sure. I’ll go to sleep. And then when I wake up you’re gone again.’ 

 

Connor didn’t know what to say. Instead he reached for her hand again, interlacing their fingers.

‘I won’t be. Promise.’ That’s what people did, right? _Promising._

She smiled at his use of the term. ‘Right now I find it hard to believe you. 

‘I understand.’ 

 

They sat in silence for a while. Lindsay’s other hand was still in her lap, fiddling with a lose threat on her sweatshirt. Next to her, the soft glow of her phone occasionally illuminated the room just a little more. But Lindsay didn’t check any of the notifications. 

 

Despite her refusal to rest, fatigue was finally catching up with her body. Eventually she shuffled a little closer and rested her head on Connor’s shoulder. 

‘Go to sleep,’ he told her again, voice barely above a whisper. 

Lindsay seemed too tired to argue as exhaustion won out and Connor felt her heart beat slow, breaths becoming soft and even. He waited a little longer to ensure she really was asleep, contemplating moving her because slumped against his side as she was, Lindsay couldn’t possibly be comfortable. In the end he decided against it because the risk of accidentally waking her was too high. Then Connor decided to enter a low power mode, something he rarely did. After the last few days it seemed easier. At least he didn’t need to think that way. But his downtime didn’t last long, system informing him he had been in standby for thirty-seven minutes and twenty-three seconds, before Lindsay flinched awake against him, bringing Connor himself back to full attention. 

 

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ she muttered groggily as she shifted. ‘Fuck, my neck hurts.’ 

There were multiple cracks coming from the region of her spine as she stretched before sliding down the bed a little further. This time Lindsay curled up beside him, which was at least a better sleeping position. It only took three and a half minutes until she fell asleep again. Connor, satisfied that the previous disturbance had only been caused by bad posture, re-entered standby mode. 

 

This time, it only took seventeen minutes before she flinched next to him yet again. A quick scan immediately revealed her elevated heart rate as well as the flush creeping along her skin. His systems suggested she had been having a nightmare but Connor decided not to comment on it. 

 

Lindsay returned to sleep wordlessly but this time he kept a close eye on her. It wasn’t long before her heart rate was on the rise again and she became restless. Only five minutes later she woke up again. The idea of sleeping seemed to be abandoned when Lindsay sat up and sighed, running a hand through her hair. ‘I’m gonna get some air.’ 

 

She climbed off the bed clumsily before picking up her coat and slipping it on. 

‘Can I join you?’ Connor asked as she was about to unlatch the door to the small balcony. Lindsay’s hands stilled on the handle for a moment before she nodded. 

 

The balcony was about as run down as the rest of the establishment. There were two metal chairs that looked too rusty to support anyone’s weight flanking a small table that was in equally miserable shape. Previously painted some shade of yellow, the railing showed signs of oxidation as well, the paint peeling in more than one place. What the small outside space was lacking in looks and functionality, it didn’t make up for in view either. It faced the highway below, the occasional car passing, as well as another building across the road. 

Lindsay leant against the railing, elbows resting atop the metal barrier. Connor stood next to her but kept his distance, hands folded in front of himself. 

 

‘Perhaps we should talk,’ he offered eventually. Clearly not talking wasn’t working either.

‘Yeah, probably.’ 

Patiently he waited for Lindsay to begin. She didn’t. 

 

Another minute passed. 

 

‘So?’ 

‘ _So_?’ Connor echoed. 

‘Well, start talking. You have a lot of explaining to do.’ 

He searched for the right words, even consulting his social module in an attempt to work out what to say. But the right words didn’t present themselves. 

‘I’m not certain how to begin,’ he admitted finally. 

‘How about at the start?’ 

Usually Lindsay seemed to know exactly which questions to ask to get him to talk but Connor supposed he wasn’t deserving of that treatment now. 

 

‘I’m not entirely sure where the start is either.’ 

Next to him she sighed, fingers coming up to tug on the collar of her coat even as she shivered in the cool air of the early evening.

‘When did you decide to come here?’ 

Connor frowned over at her, wondering what made her believe he had decided to come to the _Quality Inn at Mount Laurier_ at any point. 

‘Come to Canada, I mean,’ Lindsay added, seemingly guessing his thoughts. 

 

‘I suppose I had been thinking about it ever since I heard that the McMillians had come here. But I didn’t make the decision until Tuesday.’ It had just been an impulse at first, one easy to resist. The more Connor had thought about it, the more sense it had seemed to make. 

‘Why Tuesday?’ 

‘There was a lot of time to think while you were at work after my interview on Monday. So I formulated a plan and then decided to go through with it.’ 

Lindsay started picking at the skin around her nails before visible trying to stop herself by pulling the sleeves of her coat over her hands. 

‘You told me to stay at work that day. You said you’d be fine,’ she said then, voice strained. 

‘I was.’ 

She laughed bitterly. ‘Planning something so stupid is _not_ being fine.’ 

‘I thought it was the right thing to do.’ 

‘No, you didn’t. That’s why you didn’t tell me.’ 

‘I made it my mission to capture the people who tortured Stuart. If I had told you, you would have only tried to stop me.’ 

‘Because what you did was dumb and you know it.’ The words came out in a sharp hiss, as if Lindsay was trying hard not to shout. Perhaps she was. 

Connor didn’t know what to say and chose to remain silent instead. 

 

‘You could at least have the decency to try and make up some excuse,’ she said eventually.

‘Why would I do that?’

‘I don’t know, it’s just what people do.’ Lindsay shivered again and he suppressed the urge to tell her it was too cold for her to be outside. 

‘When you dropped me off at work on Thursday, you called me back when I got out of the car and it looked like you wanted to say something but decided against it. What was it?’ 

Connor was almost surprised that she remembered the situation. It seemed like too minor a thing for a human to commit to memory. ‘I thought I should tell you goodbye but then I couldn’t.’ 

She reached up to wipe her face with her sleeve, then sniffled. ‘God, this is pathetic. You know I cried like four times yesterday. That’s my new personal record.’ 

‘I didn’t know you keep track of that,’ Connor said cautiously, unsure if she was being serious or not.

‘Oh, yeah. I have like, a little notebook and I record all my meltdowns in it.’

‘That seems... useful.’ 

‘It totally is. You know, just in case I ever feel too happy I can go back and remember all of my misery. The last two days alone are probably going to fill up the whole thing.’

Connor concluded that she really was joking. ‘Well, I suppose I owe you a car _and_ a notebook, then.’ 

Lindsay laughed even as she dragged her sleeve across her face again. ‘You know, a couple of months ago you wouldn’t have understood that.’ 

‘I know.’ 

‘You’ve come so far.’

It was a compliment, a genuine one, yet Connor still felt like he was being backed into a corner. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘Why would you be so willing to throw that all away?’

 

If it hadn’t been such a tense situation, Connor would have admired her conversation skills. First a joke, a distraction while Lindsay was overwhelmed by her own feelings before she then circled back to the issue at hand. It was clever.

‘I don’t deserve any of this.’ 

‘You said that earlier but I don’t understand what makes you think that.’

‘I’m not like everyone else,’ he said as if that explained everything, even though he didn’t quite understand the feeling himself.

‘This isn’t just about what happened last week, is it?’ 

‘I guess not.’ Connor wasn’t sure how to explain the way he felt, despite his extensive vocabulary. 

 

‘If you don’t talk to me I can’t help you,’ Lindsay said softly. 

‘I know,’ he replied, ‘but I just... I can’t describe it.’ 

‘Try.’

Connor still struggled for words, processor racing to try and form the right sentences. ‘Before the revolution, I just did what I was told. Even when I started doubting my mission I didn’t stop. People are dead because of me. I _should_ have stopped.’

 

‘We all make mistakes. _I made mistakes_. But you’re still so hung up on yours that you can’t see anything else. It’s like you want rights and equality for everyone else but it doesn’t apply to you.’

He decided to ignore the last part of what Lindsay had said because it hit too close to home. ‘You made mistakes but you’re still a good person.’

‘And you’re not?’ 

‘I don’t know what I am.’ Connor himself was startled by the confession.

 

He didn’t deserve to be treated like everyone else, didn’t deserve to be treated like a person.

Everyone had fought for their freedom and their rights. All he had done was get them killed. 

Connor had been trying to make it right all this time, but nothing he did was ever enough.

 

‘Is that why you asked me how I ended up working for CyberLife back in the day?’ Lindsay asked eventually, stopping his train of thought.

 

Of course Connor remembered the conversation. Not long after the revolution, but before they had been on their first date. What he had eventually identified as guilt had been eating him alive. But through the inability of dealing with the feeling, he had realized that Lindsay, too, had been involved in the oppression of a people. _His people_. And yet, he had still considered her to be a good person. So he had hoped that maybe there was a variable he hadn’t considered yet, a viewpoint he hadn’t seen. Anything to soothe the guilt that was grinding away at his artificial bones.

 

‘You said there was always a choice,’ Connor said, recalling her words, ‘and when you chose wrong, you decided to make up for it. So that’s what I’ve been trying to do, I guess.’ 

 

Lindsay started fiddling with her sleeves again, clearly still nervous. ‘I was wrong. Back then, I thought we were talking about me but we were really talking about you. There’s a difference between us. I’ve always had a choice. But you haven’t and you’re probably not going to have it for a long time. So this is really just my fault because I made you believe you had to make up for a mistake that was out of your control.’ She paused and seemed to remind herself to leave her sleeves alone. ‘Besides, ‘Lindsay continued then, ‘just because you did the wrong thing once, for whatever reason, doesn’t mean you have to give up everything just to make it right. Life isn’t some maths equation where each side has to be perfectly balanced. You could change the whole world and it still wouldn’t be enough if you didn’t forgive yourself.’ Her nose wrinkled. ‘That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever said.’ 

 

‘I’m going to print that out and put it on my desk,’ Connor said, thinking of the motivational quotes on some of his coworkers’ desks.

‘Don’t you dare,’ Lindsay laughed and used her index finger to poke him in the arm. 

‘Ow.’ 

‘Oh shush, that probably hurt me more than it hurt you.’ 

‘Probably.’ It hadn’t hurt him at all and he was sure Lindsay knew.

 

She sighed and turned back to face the highway again. ‘But seriously, I’m not equipped for these conversations. You need like therapy or something.’

‘There is no such thing for androids, remember?’ 

‘I know that, but there should be.’ 

 

Connor knew she was right. He also knew that Lindsay had been pushing for a research grant for months to work on analyzing deviant behavior and emotions to prove that mental illness existed in androids and treatment could be developed. But there was no money for it. Or at least no one was willing to spend money on it.

 

‘You know,’ Lindsay said then, slowly, ‘no one knows you’re not human here. Maybe you should stay.’ 

Connor looked over at her in surprise. Her words were completely unexpected. ‘Stay in Canada? I hadn’t considered it.’ 

‘You could be free here. Be treated like an actual person.’ 

He wouldn’t be the first android to do it. That’s why the biocomponent he currently wore had been created in the first place. ‘If I stayed, would you join me?’ 

 

Lindsay began picking on a bad patch of paint on the railing. ‘Look, Connor... Maybe it’s not such a good idea for us to be together.’ 

 

For a moment Connor thought his auditory units were glitching and he replayed the conversation. But the words didn’t change. ‘What do you mean?’ 

‘I’m just not sure if this is fair on you. Sometimes I think you only asked me out because you were scared and I was familiar. Maybe it was just easier to keep me around to tell you what to do. I just... Sometimes I think you still see me as your handler.’

 

He watched as Lindsay’s insistent picking separated a flake of paint from the metal underneath before it drifted down towards the ground. 

‘What are you trying to say?’ Connor asked then. 

‘I don’t know either. This just doesn’t feel right sometimes. You should be out there, exploring, instead of being stuck with me.’ 

‘Couldn’t the same be said about you?’ 

‘I’ve been with other people before. I know what I want.’

Connor remained silent, wishing his conversational skills weren’t just based on small talk and interrogations. Talking about himself was not his strong point.

 

‘Do you think I should stay here?’ he asked eventually.

Lindsay sighed, shaking her head. ‘This is exactly what I mean. It’s your decision, you shouldn’t ask me to tell you what to do.’ 

 

Connor had the uncomfortable feeling that this conversation was getting away from him, that anything he was going to say would inevitably be wrong. ‘I asked you because I value your opinion. You only want the best for me.’ 

 

She laughed soundlessly, bitterly. ‘Connor, I’m not that good a person. My opinion is always going to be selfish when it comes to you. How can I tell what’s really best for you when I just want to keep you with me?’ 

 

‘Perhaps this is not the right time for this kind of conversation,’ he said cautiously, still not certain where this was going.

‘Don’t change the subject now.’ 

 

It was a good time to use his negotiation skills, coerce her into complying. Although it almost felt wrong to try and manipulate her like that. 

‘Lindsay, you’re exhausted and it’s affecting your ability to think clearly. We can talk about this after you’ve had some rest.’

‘You don’t really think I’m going to be any less exhausted after a few hours of bad sleep in a terrible hotel bed. All you’re trying to do is distract me so I might forget.’ 

‘I promise we can talk about this at home.’ 

‘By the time we get home it’s too late for you to make a decision on this.’ 

It really wasn’t a decision at all. At least not one Connor needed to think about. ‘I’ve already made my decision. There’s nothing that makes me want to stay here.’ 

‘So equality, freedom and respect don’t sound good?’ Her sarcasm wasn’t as biting as he was used to. 

‘I’ll have those eventually.’ 

‘And in the meantime?’ 

‘I can wait.’ Connor was sure that he meant it. 

 

Daylight had disappeared completely, the highway below only illuminated by streetlights and the occasional set of headlights that came with passing cars. The wind had picked up, temperature dropping almost steadily. But still there was something peaceful about the relative silence of the night, at least in contrast to the events of the last few days.

 

‘So, I guess we talked,’ Lindsay said eventually.

‘Do you feel any better now?’ 

‘Nope. Do you?’

‘I don’t think so.’ 

She laughed. ‘Maybe we need to sort this out when we get home. That is if you’re coming home.’ 

‘I am.’ His decision hadn’t changed. It wasn’t going to change.

‘Are you sure?’ 

‘Yes.’ Connor decided he had enough of being serious. ‘After all I don’t want to have a gun pointed at me again.’ 

‘Can’t believe that’s all it took,’ Lindsay replied, turning towards him. ‘I’m gonna remember that for next time.’ 

‘This might come as a surprise but I don’t actually enjoy being threatened with a weapon.’

‘Well, don’t run away on me then,’ she laughed as she pushed past him on the small balcony, then opened the door.

‘I won’t.’ Connor followed her inside and shut the door behind him. 

 

Early the next morning they met up with Hank in the hotels dining room. Or in this case breakfast room. The man looked about as exhausted as Lindsay although Connor quickly detected all the symptoms of a hangover. Which admittedly shouldn’t have been very surprising. 

Connor’s polite good morning was only met with a grumbling noise. 

 

It took both humans five minutes and an enormous cup of coffee each before they seemed ready to have any kind of conversation. 

‘So, what’s the plan for today?’ Lindsay asked as she was sipping on a cup of water, much to Connor’s relief. The last thing he wanted to deal with today was her bad temper that came with a caffeine induced headache.

 

They spent some time discussing border security and Connor’s new biocomponent, as well as his brand new, although fake passport. But there wasn’t a lot of time for talk with the long journey home ahead of them.

 

 

Once they were in the car, the border didn’t seem to come any closer, much like the _estimated travel time remaining_ on a display on the dashboard didn’t seem to go down. Maybe it was to do with the fact that it was a ten hour drive to get back to Detroit. Or maybe it was because Lindsay couldn’t wait to leave Canada behind, to get across the god damn border and go home. 

At any rate, time seemed to stand still in the borrowed vehicle. 

 

Everyone seemed to have different ways of dealing with the boredom that came with the extent of their trip. Hank was in the back, snoring blissfully, although luckily quietly, probably drooling all over himself if the awkwardly drooped position of his head was anything to go by.

Meanwhile Connor had been starring at the road ahead, drumming his fingers against the plastic interior of the side of the car for what felt like forever.

Lindsay had desperately tried to ignore it but it was far more annoying than the soft snoring coming from the back. 

 

‘You need to stop doing that,’ she said eventually. 

His head snapped to the side to look at her. ‘Excuse me?’ Coming from anyone else, she would have interpreted it as being sassed but Connor seemed genuinely puzzled. 

‘The tapping. It’s annoying.’ 

‘I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.’ 

 

Lindsay suppressed a sigh and put her own hand on the side of the car next to her, mirroring his actions, while closely watching Connor. His eyes drifted from her face to her hand and back again. Her brows rose as she began tapping the plastic underneath her fingers a little harder. Slowly, very slowly, Connor seemed to connect the dots and turned back around to look at his own hand performing the same action. 

 

Once he had visual confirmation of the display of his little habit, his hand dropped from the plastic and into his lap immediately. 

‘I didn’t realize I was doing that.’

‘Nervous?’ Lindsay asked, keeping a close eye on his reaction.

‘Perhaps a little.’ Connor looked more than a little nervous, although she couldn’t be sure if it was because of the border crossing or if he was still uncomfortable around her. But at least he had admitted to it. 

 

‘Don’t be. I’m nervous enough for both of us so I’ve got it covered.’

‘You said you weren’t very nervous last night.’

‘Well, I lied.’ Or maybe she hadn’t actually been nervous the night before. It was hard to remember now, everything blurred by exhaustion. Yet sleep had been worse, her brain continuously forcing her body back awake almost brutally, just to check if Connor was still there. But he had been. In fact he had been almost strangely compliant since the little train station incident. Lindsay decided that she would worry about his behavior another time. She was too exhausted for anything else.

 

The rest of the trip passed by as slowly as predicted. They stopped a few times for unhealthy snacks and an amount of coffee that exceeded their _recommended daily maximum caffeine intake_ by 1.8 times. 

 

Lindsay was glad when a sign informed them that the border checkpoint was only another 15 miles ahead. At the same time her nervousness only increased until she felt like her bones were vibrating with it. 

 

The checkpoint procedure was the same as it had been on her journey into Canada. Lindsay’s hire car was queued in the long line of vehicles to be searched, while her and Connor were waiting in an equally long line to be scanned themselves. Of course Hank had flashed his badge at the border officer directing the queues and had been fast tracked, probably waiting on the other side while consuming more caffeine without being warned about the risks associated with it. If she hadn’t been so nervous, Lindsay would have envied him. She had both her own passport and Connor’s fake one clutched in one hand while Connor was holding the other. 

If the android next to her was still nervous, it didn’t show anymore now. Lindsay only hoped that her own display of false confidence was equally as convincing.

 

As the queue slowly inched forward, she couldn’t help but to wish they were all back in the car, no matter how much she had wanted to get out of the car earlier. 

‘You’re being very quiet,’ Connor observed. 

‘I’m tired.’ It wasn’t like she could admit to being anxious so openly. After all they were only supposed to be two humans crossing the border. 

‘We’ll be home soon.’ His tone was so encouraging that Lindsay decided to believe it, even if his confidence was only fake.

 

There wasn’t much time to dwell on it anymore anyway when they reached the front of the queue, only a few more people separating them from a border officer behind a desk.

The man, his name tag identified him as Officer Johnson, was on the far side of middle-aged, with thin, slightly greying hair and a potbelly.

 

‘We’re scanning for androids today,’ he drawled without looking at them when they finally reached him. ‘I’ll be collecting your passports before you each walk through the scanner when the lights turn green. Your documents will be returned to you on the other side.’ The words were clearly well rehearsed, spoken many times before and contributing to his general air of not caring.

 

‘Fucking androids,’ Connor muttered under his breath. 

The border officer looked over at him. ‘Damn right. _Fucking androids_.’

Lindsay tried hard not to laugh at the exchange and instead flashed him her brightest smile as she handed their passports over. The man’s expression relaxed a little. He began flipping through both their documents. 

 

‘You live in Detroit?’ 

‘Yes, sir.’ Lindsay forced herself to stay calm. Connor squeezed her hand. ‘I’m from California originally so we’ve been thinking about moving back there. Detroit’s been different since they... you know.’ It wouldn’t hurt to play along with the example Connor had set.

 

Officer Johnson nodded. Then he looked over at Connor. ‘You two a couple?’ 

‘We are.’ 

‘Nice,’ he said, stretching the word out, before winking at Connor. Lindsay’s skin started to crawl at his expression. But then the man gestured at the scanner before either one of them had a chance to reply. ‘You’re good to go.’ 

 

Lindsay let Connor go first. She focused on just breathing as she watched him walk through the scanner with all the confidence in the world. 

The lights flashed red. 

Then they changed back to a steady green glow. 

‘Your turn, sweetie,’ Officer Johnson said. Any other time, she would have considered punching him in the face. Instead she just smiled, making her way through the scanner. 

 

Officer Johnson joined them on the other side of his booth. 

‘You’re free to go.’ He didn’t hand over their passports. ‘Good to see young people with some sense. You know, regarding androids and all that.’ 

At this point the fake smile still plastered to her face was almost painful.

 

Finally, the border officer gave Connor their passports. Then he clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Take care, son.’ 

‘I will. Thank you, officer.’

 

Lindsay resisted the urge to run, dragging Connor along to get him into the car and away before anyone could stop them. Instead she forced herself to walk slowly, unhurriedly, unsuspiciously. 

 

‘Didn’t I tell you things would go well?’ Connor asked, sounding far too smug for someone who had only very recently done something extremely stupid.

‘Just to be clear, I never want to do that again,’ Lindsay said as she was trying to find her stupid car, which proved to be difficult in the mass of similar looking vehicles.

 

But Connor of course had no problem locating the right car, which proved to already be occupied by a very bored looking police lieutenant. 

‘ _Fuckin’ finally_ ,’ he muttered under his breath just as Lindsay was climbing into the car. 

‘The queue was very long,’ Connor explained patiently, as if the only reason Hank had pulled his badge at the border security officers wasn’t that he knew perfectly well that the queue had been massive. 

‘You get through alright?’ 

‘If we hadn’t gotten through, we wouldn’t be here now.’ 

 

Lindsay decided she had no interest in joining the conversation. Exhaustion was finally well and truly catching up with her.

Instead she listened to Connor and Hank bicker as they finally made their way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done!  
> I haven't written anything this long in literal ages and I'm honestly exhausted now.  
> A huge thank you to everyone who left Kudos and/or comments. They're very much appreciated and mean more to me than you could imagine.
> 
> I'm so tempted to give this a second part because unanswered questions and all that but I don't really have the time to commit to so much writing. Might make like a sneaky little epilogue type of thing but idk yet.


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